Hurricane
by Sandy S
Summary: Set 3 years after season 6. B/S story with a mystery, adventure, fluffy moments, etc.! WIP! Please read and give feedback! Thanks! :o) Chap 9 up now! Bout time, huh?
1. Prologue: Calm before the Storm

Title: Hurricane, Prologue: Calm Before the Storm Author: Sandy S. E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com Rating: R Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN. Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6 Dedication: For Thia...who is a new and dear friend and whose creativity inspires me! :o) Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy's worst nightmare comes true. This chapter is Dawn, Buffy, and Spike POV.  
  
Calm Before the Storm  
  
"Often do the spirits Of great events stride on before the events,  
  
And in today already walks tomorrow.  
  
-Samuel Taylor Coleridge, from The Death of Wallenstein. Act V, Scene 1  
  
"What are you doing up so uh..ear..hahmm..ly?"  
  
My sister's yawning voice rose over the quiet rumble of the television set. Pulling my long hair back into a ponytail, I twisted the hair band around and around. Then, I slumped back against the couch. "It's my day to present a story in history class on something positive going on in the community. I forgot about it 'til this morning when my alarm went off."  
  
Another voice came from over my sister's shoulder. "A positive story, bit? What have you found so far?"  
  
I glanced at my sister's boyfriend who was snaking his bare arms loosely around my sister's waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "Well, not much." I pushed the volume button on the remote. The anchor woman was in the middle of a bulletin about the increase in gang activity in the schools and how the school board was implementing new safety precautions. "All I've seen so far is a report on a robbery downtown and this one." I gestured at the television screen.  
  
"Hey! What's with the stair blockage?"  
  
My sister's boyfriend smirked with false maliciousness. The effectiveness of his attempt at snideness was greatly diminished by his tousled bleached curls.  
  
"Morning, Willow," my sister chimed. She tried to move over so Willow could slip past, but her boyfriend stayed rooted to the spot. "Spike! C'mon, Willow wants by."  
  
Spike winked at me in silent collusion when my sister turned to glare at him playfully. He lightly kissed her nose. "Nope."  
  
"There's a fee, Willow," I stated. "Twenty-five dollars."  
  
"But, I don't have twenty-five dollars."  
  
"Oh, well. Guess you're stuck." I turned back to the news, ignoring the scuffle on the stairs.  
  
"Just the way I like my Buffy...all squirmy and full of energy," Spike teased.  
  
My sister was struggling in Spike's arms, which was highly amusing to me because Buffy could have easily escaped from him, being the vampire slayer and all. Buffy had been "the Chosen One," fighting vampires and other demons since about age fifteen. The other irony was that Spike was her vampire boyfriend. He and Willow had been living with Buffy and I for a while now. Willow was a slender redhead who had been helping Buffy since our family moved to Sunnydale. Queen of hacker action and an ex-Wicca, Willow was a powerful ally and almost like my second older sister. Funny how fighting the forces of darkness and fearing for one's safety created nearly unbreakable bonds among friends.  
  
Losing patience, Willow put all of her strength into attempting to push Spike out of the way. Giving up, she called around his form, "What about breakfast? I can't make breakfast if I can't get by!"  
  
Spike immediately stepped to the side, causing Buffy to stumble further into his arms. "Okay. Now less squirmy Buffy is nice, too. And I get breakfast on top of that!"  
  
Seeing that Spike was occupied with the woman in his arms, Willow scooted down the remaining stairs and jauntily walked to the kitchen. "Ha! Got by. And who said I was making breakfast?"  
  
I jumped up and followed Willow. "But, but, eggs and bacon and coffee."  
  
Running her fingers lightly through her cropped red hair, her eyes sparkled at me. "Don't sound so pitiful, Dawnie. You can always eat cereal."  
  
Sticking my bottom lip out at her, I protested, "Cereal, uck! All we have is Grape Nuts that get all soggy in two seconds and tasteless sticky oatmeal. It's cause Buffy forgot to pick up *my* cereal at the store this weekend."  
  
"What'd I do?" Buffy entered the kitchen and stood behind me.  
  
I whirled and planted my hands on my hips. "Forgot my Lucky Charms again."  
  
Spike strode into the room. I noticed that he was only wearing long pants. "Hey, Dawn. Got you a story!" He thrust a paper in my face, which I ignored.  
  
Buffy disregarded Spike as well. "Well, if you would leave me a list of what you needed like I asked you to, you would have your Lucky Charms."  
  
I dimly heard Willow rattling around in the cabinets as Spike slammed the paper on the kitchen island. "Well, it's there if you want it. I'm off to take a shower. Pop me some blood in the microwave when you get a chance, Red."  
  
"You're supposed to remember! That's all I've been eating for breakfast the last six months." I glanced at Willow who had cleared her throat at my words and was raising an eyebrow at me. "Well, when Willow hasn't cooked."  
  
"Sure, Spike." Willow replied to the vampire who was rapidly getting frustrated. "But only after I finish here. The smell of blood ruins my appetite if I don't cook everything else first." She cracked an egg, and the liquid spilled from the shell onto the frying pan with a hiss.  
  
"Right." Spike left the room.  
  
The sudden sound of eggs sizzling filled the room at our silence and made me giggle.  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes at me. She sounded amused as she exited, "I better go check on him. He seemed a little huffy. Probably needs some attention."  
  
"Uh, huh," I said knowingly. If my mom had said that about a guy, I would have been thoroughly grossed out at the thought of what they were probably doing, but since Buffy was my sister, I thought what she implied was sweet. I enjoyed seeing her blissful. She got enough heaviness from having to ensure the world didn't literally go to hell all the time.  
  
When Buffy was gone, I snagged Spike's rumpled paper laying on the counter. Oh, I knew about this! I'd forgotten they'd been announcing the event at school for the last week. Reading about the local blood drive to benefit hospitals and check for bone marrow matches, I opened the refrigerator and removed the orange juice and picanté sauce for my eggs. "So, Willow, what do you have planned today?"  
  
Willow spooned the scrambled eggs onto three plates already stacked with jelly-covered toast. "Not much. Classes on campus and research."  
  
"Watcha researching?" I grabbed a plate and sat down at the island.  
  
"Something for Angel. There's some kinda demon operation going on in L.A. that he's having trouble locating, and he called for some extra hacker help. He's already got his team on it, but apparently, the operation's eluded them so far." She began heating some blood for Spike's breakfast.  
  
"Oh."  
  
Willow joined me, pulling an orange juice closer to her plate and pouring picanté sauce on her eggs at the same time. "What are you doing at school today? Any big plans?"  
  
"Nope. Just tests and more tests as usual. And the current events thing."  
  
"Sounds like fun!"  
  
I stared at her while she grinned at me. "I'm not sure if you're just really enthusiastic or dangerously ill."  
  
She took a bite of toast, not bothering to hide her continuing smile. "Just call me Miss Knowledge Seeker."  
  
* * *  
  
As stealthily as a cat stalking her prey, I crept into the bathroom, masking the sounds of my movements with the rush of the water from the shower head. With great difficulty, I tried not to giggle when Spike started humming a nonsensical but lighthearted tune to himself. I secretly enjoyed hearing him whistle or hum because that meant he was a happy vampire...that meant the love of my life was content.  
  
Shedding my nightgown but not my lacy undergarments, I perched softly on the edge of the closed toilet lid. As I closed my eyelids to absorb the sound of his music more fully, a shiver of desire ran through my body from my scalp to the tips of my brightly painted toenails. The corners of my mouth lifted at the thought of his reaction at seeing me when he finished his shower. Imagining his fingers running through the long strands of my hair and down my body, envisioning the feel of his cool lips pressing and dancing over my warm ones, my heart began to beat recklessly, and the length of my body began to tingle with sparks of ebullience.  
  
I shrieked as without warning my fantasy became reality, and I was pulled clothing and all in a fluid motion into the humid rainforest of the shower. A body heated by the water pressed against my smaller one, and his mouth hovered over mine, his unnecessary breath laving over my lips. My eyes shot open so that intense green met passionate swirls of icy blue. I loved him so much.  
  
"Hello, my slayer. Come to join me in the shower?" His arms were tight over my hips as he held me close.  
  
"Mmmm...what do you think?"  
  
"I think I was almost done," he murmured.  
  
"Oh, really?" I pushed closer and draped my arms around his neck. Whimpering slightly as his fingers whispered over the hollow of my lower back and the curve of my thighs, I scattered butterfly kisses and tiny nips over his cheeks, chin, and ears. Pleased when his low moans brushed my eardrums and the poignancy of his desire matched my own, I drew back so that cool air rushed between us.  
  
"Better get ready. I have to get to work soon."  
  
With unnatural attention directed at my collar bone, he traced the bone with two fingers, playing with my bra strap. Then, he met my gaze, growling at me. "Later tonight?"  
  
"Tonight," I confirmed, granting him fair warning. "You better be ready."  
  
His smile was broad and brilliant as he caressed my cheek. "I love you," he purred in my ear. Then, he dove in for one last deep kiss, leaving me shivering half from the lack of leftover hot water and half from an aching void only he could fill.  
  
"Love you, too," I said in a soft voice, knowing that his acute ears picked up the sound.  
  
* * *  
  
Whistling to myself, I strode down the stairs, searching for my target. "Dawn? Bit? I'm taking you to school! Where are you?" We went through this routine every morning.  
  
Dawn stood in the living room with her arms crossed. Her backpack was slung over her tiny shoulder, her sack lunch dangling down from one of her hands. "Been ready. Did you get your breakfast? Willow heated it up in the microwave." As I hurried to retrieve my mug of blood, Dawn called, "Hey, thanks for the story! It's perfect. I think our health class might take a field trip during phys ed today to donate blood. One of our classmates has leukemia, and they're trying to find him a bone marrow match. Then, I can give a first hand account of the blood drive in history class."  
  
"Glad I'm not going to the blood drive." I downed the blood in two gulps.  
  
"Why?" she asked as we entered the garage and climbed into my car.  
  
"Might make me too hungry. All that fresh blood filling the air, making me all intoxicated. Might do something I wouldn't mean to do."  
  
"Oh. Guess that makes sort of sense." She placed her backpack around her feet, smoothed her hair with both hands, and buckled her seatbelt. "I don't see how you drive with the windows all blackened like this." She nodded at the windows of the car which were painted solid black with the exception of the small slit in front of my face. "I don't see how you don't get pulled over with them all dark. What would you do if you did?"  
  
"Never been stopped. Will worry about what to do when it happens." I started the engine with a flick of my wrist. Dawn pushed the garage door opener, and the grinding noise of the door echoed throughout the room.  
  
"Could you even roll down the window to talk to the police person?"  
  
"Guess it would depend on whether it was cloudy or not." With the car in reverse, I backed out of the garage. No need to use the rearview mirror, so I just faced forward.  
  
"And what about a driver's license? And insurance?"  
  
Dawn was watching me with big eyes. I put the car in park. "Pet, you've never asked these questions before. Why now?"  
  
She bowed her head, studying her hands. "Guess I'm just ready to take driver's ed."  
  
Lifting my eyebrows, I glanced incredulously at her. "Are you even old enough to get a license?"  
  
She nodded shyly. "Yep. I *have* been for like two years now. And I'd really like to learn to drive before I'm forty...even if Buffy doesn't want to learn."  
  
"You're looking at the right person to teach you...give you a little one up before the summer class," I informed her proudly. I would do anything to please Dawn.  
  
Her whole face was alight with excitement. "Really? When can we start?"  
  
I laughed at her enthusiasm. Putting the car in gear, I drove onto the empty morning street. "Tonight. We'll borrow Willow's car, so you'll have clear windows. We'll take it for a drive in the neighborhood."  
  
"Don't you have work tonight?"  
  
"Not tonight. I'm off." I was an "unofficial" security officer around the university campus at night. The new university president had decided that he had enough of the strange murders and disappearances of students around campus. Because Sunnydale's citizens often balked at the idea of supernatural and demonic occurrences, he had hired staff as an extra and anonymous branch of the main campus security department to keep the students safe at night. The university president was no fool and did not keep his head buried in the sand about reality. Gotta admit that I admired the man for his spunk. Rather ironic that I used to hunt for meals on the same campus grounds and eat the very students I was now protecting.  
  
"What will Buffy say if you take me driving?"  
  
"Don't worry about Buffy. I'll take care of her." Dawn bounced in her seat. "Did I ever tell you how much I love you?"  
  
"Always nice to hear again."  
  
The end of the prologue 


	2. Chapter 1: Lightning Strikes

Title: Hurricane, Chapter 1: Lightning Strikes Author: Sandy S. E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com Rating: R Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN. Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6 Dedication: For Thia...who is a new and dear friend and whose creativity inspires me! :o) Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy's worst nightmare comes true. Buffy's POV.  
  
Lightning Strikes  
  
"It is vain to look for a defense against lightning."  
  
-Publius Syrus, Maxim 835 (42 B.C.)  
  
Whoever said that teaching the basics of tumbling to a class of three- and four-year-old children would be my ideal job? With my patience? I gave myself some credit for improving at keeping my cool.  
  
"Mrs. Buffy!" A tiny girl with naturally curly hair wrapped into thick twin braids was glaring and pointing at the only boy in the class.  
  
Ignoring the cry for the moment, I turned back to the slender dark- haired girl who was squatting on the mat and watching me expectantly. "Good job on the cartwheel, Amalia. Next time, I'll help you keep your legs straight." With her front teeth missing, her gap-toothed smile melted my heart.  
  
Turning back to the conflict, I stated as firmly as I could, "Ian, what did I tell you about pulling Megan's hair?"  
  
Ian jutted his chin out. "She started it."  
  
A small tug on my black dance skirt interrupted me. "Can I go now?"  
  
My hand found another girl's soft head near my thigh. "Not yet, sweetie. Just a sec." I paused. "How did she start it, Ian?"  
  
"He bit me, too!" and "Nuh uh!" were uttered simultaneously.  
  
"Megan, I asked Ian."  
  
"She pushed me first," Ian maintained. "So, there!"  
  
"Did not!" "Miss Buffy! Me and Sarah have to pee!" Another small voice whined over the shuffles of the other students.  
  
Smoothing the hair sticking out of my bun, I sighed. Sometimes working with children was harder than slaying vampires. At least, the vamps disappeared after the battle was over. The children stuck around for a whole hour. And, vamps usually attacked me one at a time. Not so with the kids. In either case, children or vamps, I had to take charge when things appeared they might get out of control.  
  
"Okay. Michelle and Sarah can go to the bathroom together. And, Ian and Megan will sit in the corner until their moms come to pick them up." The two vagrants moaned and shuffled to the timeout corner. My watch read three twenty-five in the afternoon. Five more minutes! Where had the time gone? "Okay! Time for cool down! Let's line up."  
  
"But, you said I could go next!" The girl hovering around me protested.  
  
"One more cartwheel." I followed Anita's bouncy skip to the tumbling mat, spotting her carefully as she fell into a clumsy cartwheel and almost veered onto the hardwood floor. She jumped up expectantly. "Good, Anita! That was your best one!" She beamed.  
  
Facing the rest of the squirming class, I announced, "Cool down!"  
  
As the children formed semi-straight lines in front of the wall of mirrors, I saw Xander, one of my closest friends, enter the dance studio wearing a broad smile.  
  
"Hey, Katerina Gordeeva! How goes the dancing?"  
  
The corner of my mouth lifted. "Xander, Katerina is an ice skater, and I teach tumbling, not dancing."  
  
"Oh. Yea. Well, it's all a similar genre," he concluded, leaning against the back wall with his arms crossed.  
  
The corner my mouth ascended into a full-fledged smile. Facing the class, I called, "Class, can you say 'Hi' to Xander?"  
  
The class stared and cried in unison, "Hi, Xander!"  
  
He waved at them. "Hey, class!"  
  
"Tina, would you hit play on the tape deck?" I asked.  
  
"K!" Tina teetered to the stereo resting on the floor and clumsily pushed play on the stereo so that soft, slow music filled the room.  
  
"Ian and Megan, you can join us for the cool down."  
  
Going to the front of the class, I led my small students in a series of stretching exercises, so they wouldn't tear their developing muscles later. Xander watched the children clumsily attempt to imitate my movements with a bemused expression. Some of the girls were lost in their own little world and engaged in their own form of stretching. Others wouldn't remove their eyes from me as they attempted to emulate me exactly.  
  
As soon as the song ended, the entire class inhaled deep breaths and raised their arms slowly. Exhaling, they lowered their arms. I was proud of that part of the weekly routine. All my munchkins had the deep breathing down pat. Giles, my watcher and trainer who now resided in England, would have been proud. "Okay, now give yourself a hug!" The class mimicked me as I crossed my arms and hugged my rib cage. "And have a great day!"  
  
Susan, the dance studio secretary, appeared in the doorway to watch over the children as they scampered out the door all at once to catch their rides. Maggie, the ballet dance instructor, squeezed past the children and began to warm up on the bar to prepare for her afternoon class of older students getting out of school. Some of my pupils turned to extend a last minute wave. I waved back and called, "Bye!"  
  
Xander approached as I gathered up my sweat towel, bottled water, and music tapes. "So, we're researching all evening?" I asked him, taking a swallow of liquid from my bottle.  
  
"Uh huh. Hours of our favorite gig complete with musty old texts, computers, high calorie snack-type foods, and caffeine...*lots* of caffeine." He grinned.  
  
"Great. Remind me to hire a new agent."  
  
* * *  
  
As soon as the Magic Box bell jingled, I heard Anya call, "Buffy, tell *your* boyfriend not to put those herbs so high on the shelves. Mostly women buy those herbs, and *I* and *most* other women *cannot* reach that high even on tippy toes."  
  
"I don't tell Spike what to do....most of the time. And hello to you, too, Anya," I replied with amusement in my tone. Anya co-owned the Magic Box with Giles and was in charge of the store in Giles's absence. Needless to say, she took her job very seriously, sometimes almost obsessively so. As a vengeance demon who granted wishes for those who had been wronged, Anya was also fanatic about exacting her own form of justice.  
  
"Bloody hell, demon girl, I was just stocking the shelves as I was told! You didn't say where to put the stuff," Spike grumbled, slouching and moving some of the brim-filled jars of herbs to a lower level on the wall display. "And just what goes on the top shelf?"  
  
Anya's response was immediate as she squatted behind the cash register to push items around in the glass case which housed jewelry, more expensive crystals, and charms that more advanced witches used in their spells. "Things that get broken easily, that are expensive, and/or that are pretty to look at from far away. The pretty things attract the customers through the shop window."  
  
Spike surveyed the higher shelves speculatively. "Hmm. That so? What will you do if I keep some of the herbs up there?"  
  
Anya rose quickly and crossed her arms. "What do you think?"  
  
Xander bent over to kiss the back of Anya's neck lightly and then, spoke up eagerly, "Oooo, can I wish that he be dust? Can I?"  
  
"But, Harris, who would you be able to commiserate with about our little women?" Spike reminded Xander.  
  
Xander frowned as if deep in thought. "You got a point."  
  
"Hey!" I complained, hugging him tightly from behind. "Who're you calling little? And since when do you own me?"  
  
"Yea," Anya echoed in the background, punching Xander in the arm. I didn't hear his reply because I was listening to Spike.  
  
"You've always been little. And I've always owned you even when you didn't know it." Spike pulled me to his left side and held me against his hip. I wrapped my legs around his waist and lightly brushed my lips across his cheek, inhaling the faint woodsy scent that was uniquely Spike.  
  
"You better watch yourself, Summers. You're playing with fire here," he warned, his voice growing husky when he used my surname.  
  
"Little sister has entered the room!" Dawn announced when she came in the Magic Box front door and saw Spike and I together. "So, it's time to stop all inappropriate behavior." She plopped down at the research table in the back of the shop, letting her backpack slip from her shoulder to the floor.  
  
"Hey, Dawn! How was your day at school? You can help Spike with the shelves," Anya spoke in one breath. Dawn groaned before joining Spike and I by the display where I was now standing on my feet.  
  
"How were your kids?" Dawn asked, tracing her finger along the herb labels.  
  
"Cute and devilish as usual."  
  
Willow entered the shop a minute or two after Dawn. "Hey, all," Willow said, slightly muffled by the stack of books and laptop computer in her arms.  
  
Greetings were exchanged all around. Xander and Spike lifted Willow's burden, and she leaned against the glass case. Panting, she wiped the back of her hand against the sheen of sweat on her forehead and thanked them. As the men made their way to the research table, the women trailed behind.  
  
A lull of dread about the research and what we might find settled heavily over me. I didn't enjoy uncovering the facts. Sometimes, I just liked to go into battle with a nameless demon to fight, maim, and kill. That made things much simpler, much more black and white. Grey and fuzzy were not my cup of tea. And the more I knew about a demon, the more likely I would find some human trait that might make my slaying job more difficult. Take Spike, for example. Even after the many years I'd known him as a vampire with and without a soul, he was still an enigma to me. He was complicated and unpredictable and annoying and sweet bundled into one package...demon and human at the same time. Definitely not killable. He laced his cool fingers with mine as I sat down next to him, making me feel reassured and safe and letting me know that we could handle whatever obstacle was laid in our path. His eyes lit up with inner intensity when I smiled at him. *Definitely* delectable.  
  
Once everyone was settled around the table, Willow positioned her laptop open before her and rose to her feet. "Okay. Here's the deal. Angel called me last night in need of some help."  
  
"He needs some help all right," Spike made the expected comment.  
  
Xander jabbed his index finger toward Spike without looking at him. "Right there with you."  
  
I knew better than to respond to their dislike of Angel, my ex- boyfriend with whom they had personal confrontations. If I said anything, the conversation would veer off topic. Besides, they made comments about Angel out of habit more than anything else now.  
  
Willow stood her ground, breezing over their words. "He and his gang in L.A. are investigating..."  
  
"A rash of unexplained murders committed by demons and the exchange of large sums of money?" Dawn interjected. Willow's expression changed to one of annoyance. Dawn grimaced and explained, "Anya told me."  
  
"Hey, the money part was interesting," Anya asserted, shrugging her shoulders.  
  
"Why is that part interesting?" I wondered aloud.  
  
"Because demons don't usually deal in money, pet." Spike squeezed my hand.  
  
"I haven't forgotten the kittens, Spike." Everyone but Anya stared at me with confusion. I dismissed their questions with a tiny wave of my left hand. "Don't ask."  
  
"Although those wacky demons probably should learn to handle money more efficiently if they're going to get with the modern times. Maybe they could set up a savings account at the bank and play the stock market," Xander added. Anya beamed at him.  
  
Willow cleared her throat, sounding oddly like Giles. I tried to hold back my laugh at the thought of Willow wearing tweed and polishing a pair of glasses. "Anyway. Angel's not sure how organized these demons are and how far reaching their influence is. His group believes that a branch may be settling into Sunnydale."  
  
"Which is why she sent Spike and I to Willy's bar this afternoon," Anya stated with pride.  
  
"Oooo. Hanging with the demon riffraff," Dawn commented on Willy's clientele. "How much did you have to pay him this time for information on the demon underworld?"  
  
"Or, did you just beat it out of the slimy little excuse for a human being?" Xander asked, winking a brown eye at Anya.  
  
"Vampires," Spike said evenly. "They're a group of vampires. But, they've done little in Sunnydale, yet. Rumor is that a couple of bigwigs are here now, studying the possibilities of setting up shop."  
  
"Bigwigs?" Willow queried.  
  
Anya nodded. "Yea, they're pretty organized. Besides the money, their motive is uncertain though."  
  
"So who are they murdering in L.A.?" I asked Willow.  
  
"Angel said some bodies actually haven't been found but that a handful of very wealthy individuals have mysteriously disappeared and strange new replacements have been made in their businesses. And some unlikely financial moves have been made as a result. Also, the bodies that have been found have been some of the less wealthy rivals of the missing individuals. And honestly, none of the bodies that have been found seem to indicate death at the hands of vampires."  
  
"What have they died from?" Dawn ran her fingers through her long, brown hair, studying the tips for possible split ends as she asked her question.  
  
"Bullets, knife stabbings, hanging," Willow said, placing the tips of her fingers on the table.  
  
"Oh. Like regular human ways of killing people," Dawn realized. "Pretty much. But they've been set up to look like suicides."  
  
"Willy gave us an address." Anya held out a slip of paper.  
  
I took the note. "What for?"  
  
"The place where the big boys are staying," Xander guessed, trying to peer at what was written on the paper.  
  
"Got it in one," Spike validated.  
  
Staring at the address, I blinked to make sure I was seeing the words correctly. "This is in the very rich, not-at-all impoverished part of town."  
  
"They paid for the home in full. Must mean they have a lot of money and that they're planning to stay for a while," Willow noted, "I better inform Angel." She headed toward the phone near the cash register.  
  
"I'd like to talk with him, too."  
  
Spike's muscles stiffened when I spoke of contacting Angel while he was in the room. I rubbed his forearm in reassurance, but he jerked away. I didn't have time for this jealousy crap...not when the situation was so serious. If I was going to figure out how to handle the current situation, I really needed to know more...straight from Angel and not secondhand through Willow. I ignored the anger that flickered across Spike's face when I left his side and stood next to Willow as she dialed the phone number.  
  
Spike sprang up. "C'mon, Dawn. Let's go. Gotta practice the driving. Willow, we're taking your car like we talked about earlier. Get a ride home with Harris."  
  
Dawn bounced up and down with excitement. She virtually skipped to the door. "Cool."  
  
Willow nodded at him with the phone to her ear.  
  
"*Driving?* " Flickers of rage and shock stabbed through my abdomen.  
  
"Woulda told you, pet, but since you're so busy at the moment and since it doesn't seem like we'll be doing anything productive for a while...." He gestured at the telephone. "Let me know what you find o...." The door banging shut behind him cut off the end of his words.  
  
Sympathy written in her eyes, Willow patted my arm. I shook my head at her. I loved Spike, but sometimes he could be so *impossible*.  
  
* * *  
  
"Whoa." I stood frozen in place at the sight of the huge mansion that rose up before Xander, Anya, and me. We finally found the neighborhood a few hours after consulting with Angel and exchanging information. I hadn't heard from Spike and Dawn, but I wasn't really worried. I would deal with Spike's temper tantrum later.  
  
"I think 'whoa' is a bit of an understatement, Buf," Xander said from over my shoulder in the shadows.  
  
Anya shrugged as she came to a stop on the sidewalk in front of me, clutching a stake in her hand. "They have money. We knew that."  
  
"Yea, but this requires large gobs of money," I noted. I shoved my hands in my coat pockets, shivering and feeling the comforting wood grain of my stake against my fingers. The fall air was beginning to get nippy at night.  
  
"But, not enough to get a gate and brick fence." Anya said brightly.  
  
"Oh, well. They're not good enough for us to stake. They don't have a fence. Let's go." Xander mocked, turning on his heel to walk away.  
  
"Ha, ha. Follow me, you two. Let's go interrogate some vamps," I marched past Anya onto the lush lawn that was green even in the dark.  
  
"Buffy," Xander hissed. "Wait! There could be alarms."  
  
I halted, glancing down at the ground. "Oh."  
  
"Let me take care of that." Xander led the way toward the large house. Being in construction, carpentry, and a little bit of everything else that went along with those occupations, Xander knew his way around buildings, blueprints, and contraptions like alarm systems.  
  
Bringing up the rear of the group, Anya sighed. "Too bad I can't just teleport inside." As a vengeance demon, she had the ability to teleport in and out of different places.  
  
"Nope. We're sticking together. Don't want you to end up in a dangerous situation all by yourself when we don't even know what we're getting into," I stated.  
  
Then, I stumbled into Xander. Anya narrowly missed hitting me. We were nearing the long front windows of the mansion.  
  
"Xander!" Anya fussed.  
  
"Shhh. I'm trying to concentrate," Xander whispered as he studied the hedges, probably trying to find alarm triggers.  
  
"Hey, look," Anya said at a normal volume. "The front door's open!"  
  
"Ahn! Shhh!" Anya glared at Xander's remark.  
  
"How convenient," I said sardonically. Watching the door for a moment and noticing no movement, I approached the stream of light pouring from inside. "Guess we should take the bait."  
  
Xander and Anya were silent behind me. Removing my stake from my pocket and noiselessly treading across the porch, I eased the front door open with my left foot. The foyer was empty and luminous. The walls were bare, and the rich mauve-colored carpet was clean. The smell of cleaning fluids filled the air.  
  
"Clean vampires. Very interesting."  
  
"Well, if they have the money for a house like this, Xander, they probably would want to keep it clean," Anya said in a hushed tone.  
  
"Let's split up, guys. Xander and Anya, you go that way. I'll take this way. We'll sweep the house and see if anyone's here. Meet back here in about fifteen or twenty minutes?"  
  
Xander nodded.  
  
Twenty minutes later, we reunited empty-handed in the foyer.  
  
"What'd you find?" Anya asked eagerly.  
  
Inhaling deeply, I let out a large sigh. "A whole lotta nothing. Nothing seems unusual. No vamps, no dead bodies in the attic. No clueage found by me."  
  
Xander's eyes were shining. "Well, we found something in the study."  
  
He practically flew down the dark corridor, turning left at the fourth door. The study was dimly lit by the fire roaring in the fireplace and two lamps in the corners of the large room. Hundreds of hardcover books of every shape and size lined the bookshelves built into the walls. The floor was covered in a deep scarlet rug, and a large oak desk was positioned proudly in the middle of the room surrounded by three plush chairs covered in fabric the same color as the rug. Nothing lay atop the desk.  
  
After the awe passed and I closed my open mouth, I said, "Wish Willow was here, so she could tell us if the books were important."  
  
Xander smiled at his girlfriend. "Well, if you close your eyes and think real vengeful thoughts, maybe Anya could grant your wish."  
  
Anya and I gave him a funny look.  
  
Not to be thrown off, Xander commented, "Really though. Anya already looked the books over. Nothing unusual there. What's really fascinating is..."  
  
Grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the desk, Anya cut him off, "The dust covering the two chairs over here."  
  
I instantly saw what she was talking about. The chair behind the desk and one of the chairs across from the desk were covered in a thin layer of dust.  
  
"Somebody dusted the vamps," Anya explained. "And not too long ago cause the fire's still burning."  
  
"Wonder why." I was quiet for a moment. "We should regroup at my house. Xander, do you mind calling Willow at the Magic Box and tell her to meet us there?"  
  
"Right. She has my car keys," Xander agreed.  
  
* * *  
  
Willow arrived at the house at the same time as Xander, Anya, and I pulled into the driveway in Anya's car. Lights were on in almost all the rooms in the house, and Willow's car was parked in front of the house. Apparently Dawn had not mastered driving up the driveway just yet. On the porch, I unlocked the front door and stepped inside. I walked to the base of the stairs as the rest of the group filed into the living room.  
  
"Dawn! Spike! We're back. Gang's all here to talk about what's going on."  
  
A deafening quiet followed my voice. Annoyed at both of them, I jogged up the stairs and peered into Dawn's room from the hall. The scene that flooded my senses drove me to my knees. A voice that sounded like my own but seemed much farther away screamed. Footsteps thumped quickly up the stairs as my friends gathered to view what I was seeing. One pair of footsteps ran the other direction, but my mind barely noticed.  
  
The room was coated in crayon red blood...fresh blood. The metallic smell overwhelmed me, and I felt faint. Vaguely, I heard a voice that said, "Spike's car and clothes are gone."  
  
End chapter 1 


	3. Chapter 2: Dark Clouds Brewing

Title: Hurricane, Chapter 2: Dark Clouds Brewing Author: Sandy S. E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com Rating: R Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN. Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6 Dedication: For Thia...who is a new and dear friend and whose creativity inspires me! :o) Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy's worst nightmare comes true. Spike's POV. Notably, the places in Stillwater (a real city, btw), Oklahoma were invented and are not based on any real places within the actual city.  
  
Dark Clouds Brewing  
  
"Thus with the year  
  
Seasons return; but not to me returns  
  
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn,  
  
Or sight of vernal bloom or summer's rose,  
  
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;  
  
But cloud instead, and ever-during dark  
  
Surrounds me; from the cheerful ways of men  
  
Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair  
  
Presented with a universal blank  
  
Of Nature's works, to me expung'd and raz'd,  
  
And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out."  
  
-John Milton, from "Paradise Lost"  
  
A sharp noise resounded through my mind, cutting through the clouds of my dreams. Testing out my muscles, I noticed the softness of whatever I was lying upon...probably a bed. For some reason, I was having a difficult time opening my eyes. My eyelids felt like they were glued together. Wherever I was, the smell was different than home but somehow vaguely familiar. I reached with one hand to search for Buffy who usually snuggled up close to me. Nothing. The sheets surrounding me were cold, and I realized I couldn't hear Buffy's usual heartbeat and the deep breathing sounds of her slumber.  
  
Then, I remembered that Buffy and I had a fight. At least, I'd thrown one of my typical anger fits and stormed off when she wanted to talk with her wanker of an ex, Angel. Wonder what they talked about. I knew she loved me...that she had for three years, seven months, and twelve days now...okay, so maybe it was a little obsessive to know how long she loved me down to the day. But sometimes I still worried that she would treat me differently after having contact with Angel, her first love...that she would see the error of her ways in choosing me.  
  
I tried to push Angel out of my thoughts.  
  
Maybe Buffy and crew spent the night at the Magic Box researching and discussing the new menace in Los Angeles and possibly in Sunnydale. If so, a box of donuts and her favorite coffee might be a good way of apologizing for my behavior.  
  
Rubbing my eyes, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, stretched my arms over my head, and yawned out of habit, not necessity. My vampire eyes adjusted immediately to the dim light of the darkened room I occupied.  
  
*What the bloody fuck?*  
  
Leaping to my feet, I trained all my senses to doing an initial sweep of my location.  
  
I was obviously in a hotel room. The bedclothes were messy from my body's earlier movements. The room was furnished with a bureau, television, and coffee pot. An open door led to a small bathroom. A window unit that controlled the air conditioner and heater was installed below the window. The heavy curtains were likely impenetrable by sunlight. The lack of sunlight peering around the edges of the curtains indicated that the world outside was cloaked in darkness.  
  
Noting that I was still dressed in my jeans and black T-shirt from the previous evening, I strode purposefully to the door, grabbing the key I noticed on the bureau. Banging the wood against the wall inside my room and not caring about any damage I caused, I found myself outside on the sidewalk in the middle of the night. Not recognizing my surroundings, I began my hunt for the hotel office.  
  
On the way, I picked up clues to my whereabouts. Most of the license plates on the vehicles in the parking lot were Oklahoma plates. Oklahoma? Oddly, my rusty but still black DeSoto was positioned near the hotel office. Must mean I arrived in the middle of the night. Entering the office, I hardly paid attention to the furnishings and headed straight to the main desk. No receptionists were around. Scanning the top of the polished surface, I searched for a piece of paper, a newspaper, anything that would indicate my exact location. Spotting some empty business envelopes in a letter tray, I snatched one and read the return address.  
  
I *was* in bloody Oklahoma! In a place called Stillwater. Stillwater, Oklahoma? Sounded like the sodding middle of nowhere.  
  
My thoughts spinning, I ignored the receptionist who called to me, asking if I needed any help. I sank into an armchair in the lobby, trying to make sense of what was happening. Desperately, I tried to remember what had happened the previous night. Try as I might, the last thing I recalled was entering the house with Dawn in Sunnydale. I had no idea what occurred next, much less how I got to Oklahoma in...  
  
My eyes fell upon a newspaper laying on the end table next to the chair. Where was the date?  
  
*One day?!*  
  
How the hell could I have gotten to Oklahoma in one day? And what the hell happened in that day?  
  
Finding a payphone across the room, I fished thirty-five cents out of my pocket and proceeded to make a collect call. I gave the operator Buffy's phone number and waited as the phone rang and rang. No response before the answering machine picked up. She obviously wasn't home. Slamming the phone down and cursing quietly, I stormed out of the hotel lobby.  
  
* * *  
  
The only demon bar in the entire tiny city was mainly packed with vampires and familiarly smelled of cigarette smoke and damp mold. The floor was slick with spilled beer and blood. A jukebox mumbled a country music song in the background. I needed some blood, money for the trip home, and a drink, if possible. The only way I knew to obtain these things was to involve myself in a poker game.  
  
As soon as the clientele noticed I had entered the bar, all chatter ceased, and several heads turned to stare. The country music swelled to a crescendo in the silence. Apparently, vampires didn't travel through this city often...not like on the hellmouth. I approached the demon bartender with confidence.  
  
"Spot me a mug of blood, mate?"  
  
The demon grunted and poured me a large mug of the warm, thick liquid. My stomach growled as I drank the coppery blood down. The rest of the vampires continued to gape. Handing the glass back to the bartender, I turned to the vampire on my left.  
  
"Is there a poker table around that I could join?"  
  
The vampire, who was in full game face, smiled at me so that the points of his fangs glinted in the dim light. He clapped me on the back, and as he stood, I caught a whiff of decay. As soon as he touched me, talking resumed. The rest of the creatures in the bar had lost interest.  
  
"You've come to the right place. Follow me." He guided me to the back of the bar, knocking on the closed door next to the bathroom.  
  
The door jerked open roughly, and a vampire dressed neatly in a suit glared out at us.  
  
"Got another one for you," my dirty companion growled.  
  
The young male vampire blocking the doorway looked me up and down skeptically. I smirked at him.  
  
"He's from *out of town*," Decay Boy added.  
  
The other vampire's demeanor changed, and he stepped back, sweeping his arm by to invite me into the room. As soon as I entered, the vampire shut the door firmly and stood in front of it with his arms crossed and legs spread in a stance of readiness.  
  
A group of nondescript vampires sat around the only table in the tiny room. Cards and cash lay on the table. No cigarette smoke polluted the air, and the group drank no alcohol, only blood. The players were obviously serious about the game. The only notable presence in the room was the large male vamp in the corner who practically emanated power. A female vampire slouched in the chair behind him, her head bowed and her arms crossed in an image of submission.  
  
"Join us," the large vampire growled, nodding at the empty chair across from him.  
  
I turned the chair so that the back was pressed against the table and straddled the seat. The vampire on my right narrowed his eyes at my small act of defiance but slid me a stack of bills and coins and a mug of blood without question.  
  
The game began, and right away, I noticed some patterns in the play. The vampires did not speak during each round except to place bets. Other than the large vampire, whom I learned was named Paul, the players were highly inexperienced at the game. After a short amount of time, Paul and I had the largest stacks of money. With each hand that I won, I sensed that Paul was watching me more and more closely.  
  
When I had almost won the money I needed, Paul broke his formula. Reaching behind him, he grasped the long auburn hair of the female vampire and yanked her roughly up to the table. "I think I'm in need of a good luck kiss."  
  
The female vampire chose that moment to meet my gaze through the strands of hair that covered her face, and I saw abject terror written in her wide blue eyes. Then, she began struggling and grunting in attempt to remove herself from Paul's hold. As Paul crushed his lips to hers and then pushed her back into the chair, the other vampires at the table laughed cruelly. In the past, I would have joined them, but my love for Buffy and the soul that permeated my existence shot compassion for the female through my heart.  
  
"Well," I drawled, "I can see that you have a pretty prize there, Paul."  
  
Paul chuckled, shuffling the cards. "Yea, I guess I do. But they're a dime a dozen in this part of the country."  
  
I just bet they were. "I'd like to get a hold of a piece like that."  
  
"Hmmm. How about this one?" Paul dealt one card to me and one to himself. "We play. High card takes the cash and the girl."  
  
I laughed. "I've always wanted to do this. They've done it in the movies enough times."  
  
Paul leered at me. "Well, this isn't the movies. This is for real."  
  
Paul really had no idea with whom he was dealing. I fingered the card in front of me. "Good."  
  
We flipped our cards at the same time. Without warning, I used the moment to overturn the card table as well. Taking advantage of the others' shock, I executed a few well-placed kicks to the vampire guarding the door and to keep Paul at bay. These vamps evidently hadn't seen a good fight in many moons. Grabbing the female's cool hand, I hauled her out of the fray and hurried out of the poker room and the bar. Shouting and loud noises trailed after us as the vampires chased after us into the night. Dragging my new acquaintance along, we piled into my car and raced down the highway.  
  
* * *  
  
My vampire companion was mute as I accelerated the car to avoid our pursuers. She remained curled up in the seat as far from me as she could get and stared into the blackened windshield. Her flowered dress was ripped and now that I had her away from the other vampires, I realized she looked like she hadn't eaten or bathed in days.  
  
After only a few minutes, the cars and motorcycles behind us faded into the background as we raced out of Stillwater. Honestly, I was relieved to leave the little town. True, I had seen the rather large university, but the rest of the town left a lot to be desired. Several miles down the highway, we neared a truck stop where I knew I could fill up the gas tank and obtain necessities for us.  
  
As I was parking near a gas pump, she spoke softly but clearly, "Do you have money for the gas?"  
  
I smiled at her, pulling a wad of cash out of my pocket. "Did you think I hadn't taken any with me before I left that joint back there?"  
  
Smiling shyly in return, she reached into the top portion of her dress, revealing that she had hidden several folded bills. "I got some, too."  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"Callie."  
  
I offered her my hand, and she gripped it tightly before releasing it. She might be beaten down, but she was tough. "I'm Spike. Where are you headed?"  
  
"Wherever you are."  
  
"I'm off for California. I can drop you off anywhere along the way if you'd like."  
  
"O-okay." She seemed hesitant.  
  
"I'd take you where I was going, pet, but you wouldn't last long." Buffy or another of the gang would stake her on sight. After all, Callie was just another evil, soulless vampire.  
  
She nodded in understanding.  
  
"Listen. I'm going to fill up the tank here, make a phone call, and buy some supplies. They have showers here. See if you can take one. We'll talk about food when you get back. Do you know how to drive?"  
  
"Yea. I don't mind helping with that."  
  
She watched me with wide eyes, reminding me of the family I had in Sunnydale and the trust they had in me. A stab of loneliness went through me. We got out of the car together, and I started to unscrew the gas cap. As she was walking toward the well-lit building, I heard her growl almost imperceptibly.  
  
"Hey, pet!" I called after her.  
  
She twirled back to face me, the wind blowing her long hair and skirt.  
  
"Do me a favor. Don't get a snack!"  
  
She frowned in confusion as if wondering why another vampire would ask her to do something like not feed. Then, she shrugged in agreement and kept walking.  
  
After I gassed up the car, I checked the fluids. Everything seemed to be in safe working order. Then, I opened the trunk to see if my spare tire was flat. Shock could not even describe my feeling at what was in my trunk. Reaching inside, I pulled out what lay on top of my jumbled heap of clothes.  
  
Dawn's jeans and T-shirt were thoroughly stained by still damp blood. I concentrated hard and tried to understand. No memories welled up to explain her blood-saturated clothing being in my trunk.  
  
*Damn it!*  
  
I hit the trunk lid with my fist. Luckily, no one was around to witness my behavior.  
  
*What the hell is going on?!*  
  
Tears welled in my eyes. What had happened to my Dawnie? I leaned over the trunk in grief and confusion. That was when I smelled something underneath Dawn's blood...something I had smelled before. Recognition flooded my mind, and anger came right after it until I was trembling with disbelief.  
  
*He* wouldn't dare, and if he was back in my life, he would regret messing with me.  
  
Swallowing my feelings, I headed into the truck stop. I gathered a few supplies, including a map of the United States and a map of New Orleans. While I was paying for everything, Callie returned from her shower appearing refreshed. She came to my side, gazing at me curiously because she felt the tension in me.  
  
When I finished picking up my purchases and was heading toward the car, I told her brusquely, "C'mon. There's been a change of plans."  
  
She doubled her walking speed to keep up with me. "W-what change?"  
  
"We're going to New Orleans."  
  
End chapter 2  
  
**Note: Paul means "small" and is symbolic of Paul's role as small time leader of the vamps in Stillwater and his narrowmindedness. Callie means "beautiful."** 


	4. Chapter 3: Sheets of Rain

Title: Hurricane, Chapter 3: Sheets of Rain Author: Sandy S. E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com Rating: R Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN. Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6 Dedication: For Thia...who is a new and dear friend and whose creativity inspires me! :o) Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy's worst nightmare comes true. Dawn's POV. And Daniel is the same character from "The Admirer," which in this time line took place approximately six months ago.  
  
Sheets of Rain  
  
"Alas! how easily things go wrong!  
  
A sigh too deep or a kiss too long,  
  
And then comes a mist and a weeping rain,  
  
And life is never the same again."  
  
-From "Phantastes" by George MacDonald  
  
"The soft drops of rain pierce the hard marble; many strokes overthrow the tallest oaks."  
  
-From "Euphues" by John Lyly  
  
"So, do they ever check on us?" I asked the man sitting next to me on the one platform in the tiny closet of a room that could serve as a bed. The room was lit by a dim lightbulb and smelled like Spike's car before he cleaned up the backseat...like a mix of stale alcohol and dried blood. I felt sort of nauseous at the thought. My clothes were missing, and I was wearing an ugly grey sweat suit.  
  
Mr. Anderson rubbed his balding head with his right hand as he replied, "Only to feed us, but I never actually see them. Just the brown bags that slip through the crack in the door."  
  
"Oh." The situation was becoming more and more dismal, and I'd only been awake for two or three hours. Of that time, Mr. Anderson had been conscious ten minutes. All he told me was that we were being imprisoned by a group of men.  
  
I started pacing back and forth out of nervousness, a habit I'd probably learned from Spike. Mr. Anderson watched me dully.  
  
"You know, I can't really remember what happened to get me here. I mean, I was walking into the house with Spike after we went driving and then...nothing!" I threw my arms wide to emphasize the "nothing" part. "It's like a whole chunk of time is missing from my brain!"  
  
"I have memory loss, too." My fellow captive was unfazed by my flustered behavior.  
  
I halted in mid-pace and glanced at Mr. Anderson. "How'd you get here?"  
  
"Same as everyone else," he replied flatly. "The same way as you. I was working late at the office and got up to make a pot of coffee. Next thing I knew, I was here."  
  
"Everyone else? How many else? Who else?"  
  
"There's about twenty or thirty of us. All men. Some are my work competitors." He seemed to consider something for a moment. Then, he met my eyes with his own. "But, you're the only young girl. That's strange." His affect was so flat that he made "strange" sound like an everyday occurrence...well, not that strange things weren't normal in my life.  
  
"Who do you work for?" I questioned.  
  
"No one. I'm the president of my business. It's an international software company."  
  
"Oh." The gears were clicking in my head. "Oh!" I was off in my own little world again as I realized what was happening. "We're being held by that stupid gang of vamps!"  
  
Mr. Anderson responded with disbelief, "Vamps? As in v-vampires?" Somehow he seemed to shrink further into himself.  
  
Resuming my back and forth march, I continued talking to myself, "Why didn't I see it sooner? But, why would they be after me? Well, duh, cause they want to get to Buffy!"  
  
My eyes started traveling over the room. "I've gotta figure a way out of here."  
  
In that instant, the locked door swung open. "There is no way out," a well-known voice stated.  
  
As I recognized the person behind the vampire game face, a fist connected with the side of my head, and I slipped into unconsciousness.  
  
* * *  
  
"Is she awake?" a deep voice snarled.  
  
"Not yet, sir," the familiar somewhat higher pitched voice sounded far away. Large, cold hands grasped my shoulders and roughly shook me. "Dawn! Wake up! Dawnnniiiie!"  
  
The sting of a palm across my face stunned me fully awake. Blinking my eyes in the low lighting, I found myself kneeling on a tile floor and staring up at a human face...at....  
  
"Daniel?"  
  
"Yea, gorgeous, it's me," he greeted, using his familiar nickname for me.  
  
At the sight of someone I knew and trusted, relief washed over me. "W-what happened? Where am I? How did you get me out?"  
  
"Take a look around, Dawn." He traced my cheekbone with a cool finger. "You'll see."  
  
Then, I remembered that Daniel's skull had been twisted and deformed and his teeth pointed and long before he knocked me out. Eyes wide, I surveyed the candle lit room. Five vampires in their game face formed a semi-circle around me. They remained as silent as statues. Each was dressed in solid black and wore a large silver charm on a heavy chain. Another figure stood apart from the group, wearing tailored clothing. Although he was in human face, I assumed he was also a vampire. Further in the shadows, I detected a small movement and glimpsed a dark form, but I was distracted when Daniel spoke again.  
  
"Garrek, this one has special powers...like I told you." Daniel placed a heavy hand on my shoulder.  
  
The well-dressed vampire approached me, circling me and staring me down with dark black eyes. The magic radiated from him. A vampire who was also a warlock?  
  
"Ahhh. You're right, Daniel." Garrek squatted before me. "Good work, son."  
  
Daniel's grip on my shoulder loosened and lifted as he stepped back from me. Simultaneously, Garrek leaned toward me. The aura of lilacs and peppermint encased my mind, making me relax. As I let my muscles loosen and my wariness decrease, I felt something poking at the edge of my thoughts...like the tiniest pinpricks...urging me to part the walls that held the me that I knew together...to display myself to...this vampire.... With that thought, the boundaries in my mind cemented closed again. Garrek was trying to enthrall me...to get inside and manipulate my thoughts and feelings! But, Spike had taught me to evade the thrall with ease.  
  
My face was determined, and I spat in Garrek's face.  
  
To my chagrin, he laughed, wiped his face with one hand, and stood, clapping his other hand on Daniel's back. "Oh, Daniel, my boy, she does have power! I'm glad you did not let us kill her as planned. She will be of great help. She a friend of yours?"  
  
Daniel nodded.  
  
"Why don't you take care of her until we can crack her. I'll call for her when I need her." Garrek dismissed Daniel with a wave of his hand.  
  
"What about the slayer?" Daniel asked. My ears perked to hear the response.  
  
"She's out of the way. Don't trouble yourself." One of the other vampires in the room handed Garrek a flask and goblet. He poured himself a glass of thick fluid, probably blood.  
  
"But, but, couldn't she find us with a simple location spell?"  
  
Instantly, Garrek flashed into game face. His eyes remained black as night, and his voice deepened into an eerie, threatening tone. "Dare you question me? Do you not think I have the power to block a simple location spell?"  
  
Daniel bowed his head and backed away in abasement. His fingers dug into my arm, drawing me to my feet. He said nothing.  
  
Garrek turned toward the other vampires who were clustering around him. "So, tell me about the operation in L.A. Did the takeover of sector twenty-five go smoothly?"  
  
* * *  
  
Daniel forced me along in front of him until we reached a small bedroom that lacked windows. He propelled me into the room, and I pitched forward onto the bed. He flicked on a lamp that rested on the bedside table before shutting and locking the door. As he neared me, I began to tremble. He gently brushed a lock of my hair aside, and I flinched when his cool finger contacted my skin.  
  
He backed away, putting his hands up with his palms toward me. "Hey, Dawnie. I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."  
  
"What happened to you, Daniel?" I was terrified, but my voice was steady. I tried to remind myself that Daniel was no longer my friend from high school but a dangerous creature who would kill me in a heartbeat.  
  
"What do you think, little Miss Slayer's sister?" Daniel turned away from me and strode to the other side of the room.  
  
Keeping my focus on him, I sighed, replying, "You were turned. When?"  
  
Daniel was throwing some objects into what appeared to be his backpack from school. "Let's just say, I was hanging out in the hospital one night watching over my sister." Daniel's sister was addicted to drugs and had been overdosing often of late.  
  
"And?"  
  
Searching for something he wasn't finding, he grunted in impatience. His voice was strained as he bent over and looked under the bed. "And, I made friends with this guy who was in the hospital waiting room. We swapped stories. He bit me. The end."  
  
"Daniel, where are we?" I wanted information.  
  
"In New Orleans," he revealed. "In the back of a jazz club called 'The Lean Monkey.'"  
  
An object about nine inches long flew through the air at me. "Catch," Daniel said lightly.  
  
My hand flew up automatically, and I drew down a wooden stake. I thought I was surprised to see Daniel as a vampire. I was even more surprised that he was handing me a weapon that could kill him. "Daniel, what's going on?"  
  
"Guess." He smiled at me, shouldering the backpack. I felt the usual rush of emotions I felt when I was close to him. Daniel was the big crush of my high school years with his dark hair, deep brown eyes, and well- defined body. Apparently, he still had a hold on me.  
  
I changed my question. "Why are you helping me?"  
  
"Because that Garrek is one fucked up dude."  
  
*Vampire.* Daniel was a vampire. He never used to curse. "Oh." I paused. "What do you mean?"  
  
"He doesn't recognize my potential. I have first hand knowledge of the Slayer, and he hardly acknowledges me! I'm taking his latest prized possession...you...and striking out on my own."  
  
Okay, that sounded more like a vampire.  
  
"So, why did you tell him about the energy inside me if he's so messed up?" Being one of my ex-best friends, Daniel knew that I was once a mystical key that almost opened the doorway to a hell dimension and that I contained some kind of untapped, supernatural energy.  
  
"I thought I would finally get some appreciation around here! But, I guess not!"  
  
He switched off the lamp, so we were folded into the darkness. In case he decided to attack me, I gripped the stake firmly. As my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he unlocked and re-opened the door to his room. I didn't move.  
  
"Are you coming, or what?" he asked, glaring at me impatiently.  
  
I hopped to my feet and proceeded through the doorway. I figured I could take on one vamp better than an unknown number of vamps with a warlock as the leader. I held up the stake as I passed him. "And you gave me a stake because...?" As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I could've kicked myself for asking the question.  
  
"Oh, I know you couldn't kill me, Dawnie," he whispered, his breath flowing over my earlobe, causing me to shiver. "You know me too well...like Spike. And, I've seen you dust other vamps. You're pretty handy with a stake."  
  
* * *  
  
Live jazz music floated and bumped around the large, crowded lounge and bar. A neon sign of a skinny monkey playing a saxophone hung behind the band. The audience was surprisingly human. Therefore, I blended well with the gathering as Daniel led me out of the vampire hideout, through the clouds of smoke and hazy lights, and onto the streets of New Orleans.  
  
The humidity was smothering after being in the air-conditioned club, and I felt like I was inhaling liquid. The nightlife was abuzz in the streets of the French Quarter, and I was greeted by an alien accumulation of unusual sights, sounds, and smells as Daniel tugged me down St. Peter's Street toward the busier Bourbon Street where we could hide.  
  
St. Paul's Cathedral rose up like a white giant to my right, and I could not help staring at the large building that starkly contrasted with the surrounding architecture. When Daniel jerked me to the left, I almost ran into the wraith-like figure of a homeless woman who was muttering incoherently to herself. My eyes went wide at the row of artists selling their water color and oil paintings on the side of the road and at the fortune tellers who shot me beguiling smiles as if to beckon me closer. A bereft and filthy child sat on the edge of the sidewalk, holding a sign that said how hungry she was. Her gaze met mine, and I wished I had something to give her. Daniel hurried me past a little courtyard restaurant that sold hot bowls of cajun gumbo and a piano bar selling an alcoholic beverage called a hurricane.  
  
As we approached Bourbon Street, the raw stench of urine and beer almost made me gag. I witnessed a man stagger and almost fall only to be caught by a woman who held him up. Another young woman about my age was squatting in the gutter and throwing up on her shoes. Exiting a strip bar, a prostitute covered in tattoos wiggled her way down the street and entered the orgy house. Amidst the drunken crowd were parents with small children who were taking everything in with round, innocent eyes.  
  
Without any indication, Daniel directed me rapidly into a nearby hotel lobby. His face suggested a new tension. We hastened by an older couple dressed in formal clothing and halted in a darkened corridor near a curtained window that overlooked Bourbon Street. Daniel was shaking as he peeked around the curtain.  
  
"Why are we here?" I asked, worriedly. "What's wrong?"  
  
"One of Garrek's men," he said tersely, "is out there."  
  
Pressing against Daniel's chest, I tried to see what Daniel viewed. One of the tall vampires who had been in the room with Garrek stood just across the busy street. He clutched a walkie talkie similar to the one Riley, Buffy's ex-boyfriend, used to carry on demon raids when he worked for the Initiative, a government operation that had come years ago to Sunnydale to study demons.  
  
Several minutes later, Daniel whispered, "He's gone."  
  
We made our way out of the hotel lobby and onto the street once more. Rushing by a small horse drawn carriage that people were climbing into for night tours of the French Quarter, we came across a small, unlocked car near Burgandy Street. I opened the driver's side door and slid onto the leather seat. Daniel climbed into the passenger's side. He watched with awe as I yanked some wires out of the dashboard and started the car in a matter of seconds.  
  
"H-how did you do that?" he wondered.  
  
I smiled. "Spike taught me." When Daniel still appeared baffled, I added proudly, "First driving lesson. He wanted to make sure I knew what to do in an emergency. Willow will be probably be a little angry. I did this in her car."  
  
"Oh." He remained stunned for a moment. Then, putting on his game face to intimidate me, he demanded, "Get out. I'm in charge. I'm going to drive."  
  
I quickly obeyed and ran around the front of the car to sit where Daniel was located. Before I could get into the car, however, something metal jabbed into my back.  
  
The vampire's voice was harsh, "Okay! Come on. We're taking you back to the Lean Monkey."  
  
A second vampire materialized out of the nearby shadows and hauled Daniel out of the car. He was the one Daniel and I had seen out of the hotel window. After he secured Daniel, he activated the walkie talkie.  
  
"We have them. We're ready to bring them back for transport."  
  
End chapter 3  
  
**Note: Garrek means "oak spear." Daniel's death was foreshadowed in "The Admirer." Also, all the places that were referred to in New Orleans are real places except for The Lean Monkey.** 


	5. Chapter 4: Winds of Jealousy

Title: Hurricane, Chapter 4: Winds of Jealousy Author: Sandy S. E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com Rating: R Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN. Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6 Dedication: For Thia...who is a new and dear friend and whose creativity inspires me! :o) Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy's worst nightmare comes true. This chapter is Buffy's POV. Buffy and Willow travel to find Spike in New Orleans. Buffy deals with her feelings about what's happened to Dawn and what's possibly happening with Spike. Oh, boy, an angsty chapter! Notably, Buffy and Willow are on Interstate 10 while traveling.  
  
Winds of Jealousy  
  
"Love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave."  
  
-From the The Song of Solomon in the Old Testament of the Bible  
  
"Nor jealousy Was understood, the injur'd lover's hell." -From Paradise Lost by John Milton  
  
My feelings about everything that recently occurred were too overwhelming to process. My usual reaction when I felt out of control was to *do* something physical like workout, slay some demons, or...engage in other strenuous activities. However, I couldn't do a whole lot while stuck in a car with Willow for hours. Good thing she was behind the wheel. I was left with large amounts of time to stare out the window, daydream, and perhaps occasionally help Willow locate highway signs and turnoffs. Finding things like street signs was difficult when the wind swept rain against and rocked the vehicle.  
  
The car's blinker began clicking, and Willow guided the car onto the exit lane, leaving the highway behind. I reached up the fingers of my right hand as the droplets on the passenger-side window streaked from their original path and flowed in an alternate direction.  
  
"Willow, why are we getting off?" I glanced at the map splayed open on my lap. We couldn't possibly be near the next turn our route.  
  
Willow giggled. "Ice cream...I need ice cream." She pulled the car into a parking spot in the lot of a nationwide food chain that punctuated every few miles along the interstate. "Oz and I used to stop on every trip to get an ice cream cone. It's one of the things I remember most about him and one of the things I promised myself I wouldn't forget to do while traveling. Tara always thought it was cute that I kept doing it even when she and I went on trips together."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Willow had the funniest little sentimental traditions.  
  
"And, I have to use the restroom. Too much coffee," she added, waving her empty gas station mug and letting me know she wasn't stopping just for a treat. Her car door opened, letting in a cold draft of air and a fine liquid mist. "Do you want one?" she asked when I remained unmoving.  
  
I shook my head. "Nah. I'll sit this one out." Grasping the edges of the map, I held the paper up, mock-studying the route. "I'll figure out where we are."  
  
She grinned. "Okay. Be back in a sec."  
  
The car door slammed, shutting out the sounds of the highway and precipitation and enclosing me in a heavy warmth. Feeling almost suffocated and claustrophobic, which was not something I wanted to re- experience after being buried alive, I hastily rolled down the window, now grateful for the fresh scent of the icy water drops in the midst of the humidity. I was also thankful for the stolen moments to think.  
  
What had happened in the last several hours? I closed my eyes, knowing that the stimuli infiltrating my other senses were only blocking my memories. Chewing on my lower lip, I skimmed over the events like they were part of a slide show.  
  
One, Spike was gone along with all his possessions, and Dawn's room was coated in *her own* blood...no trace of her body to be found. Two, Willow's witch friend from school, Cynthia, had done a location spell, searching for Dawn and Spike. Dawn hadn't turned up at all, and Spike's indicator had been in a place called Stillwater, Oklahoma but then changed to a movement headed toward and then into Louisiana. Willow reassured me that Dawn not being located didn't mean she was dead and that magick wasn't perfect. But, I wasn't so sure. Three, we had no answered questions about the dusted vamps in the mansion. However, since things were as quiet as they could be on the hellmouth, Willow and I could go after Spike and hopefully get some answers about him and Dawn. Xander and Anya were staying behind to take care of things in Sunnydale...like slaying and their jobs. I had called the employers at the jobs Spike and I worked and arranged temporary leaves of absence.  
  
Gosh...everything boiled down to one, two, three. If only my feelings were as simple as the facts. Hot tears welled behind my eyelids, and I opened my eyes after an indeterminable amount of time to find Willow sitting next to me with her vanilla ice cream forgotten in her hand.  
  
Passing me a napkin, she smiled compassionately and said, "I was wondering when you were going to cry."  
  
Through my tears, I laughed shakily and blotted my cheeks. "Yea, I guess I tend to hold things in, huh?"  
  
"Understatement of the year," she replied.  
  
I didn't say what was bothering me, and after years of observing my behavior, Willow knew better than to ask. Instead, she continued, "So, did you pinpoint our exact location?" She peeked over at the crumpled map that was crookedly balanced on my thighs. "Let's see, we're probably about near Baton Rouge...hmmm, right h..."  
  
"Willow," I burst out, "it hurts so much. Why did Spike do this to me?" *Like all the others...* How many times had I had this conversation with Willow? A shot of guilt flew momentarily through me...well...not since she moved back into the house five months ago...actually, not for about three years. I felt a little better about burdening her.  
  
Compassion overwhelmed her features, and disposing of her ice cream cone out the window, she let me sob with my head on her shoulder for several minutes.  
  
When my tears had finally ceased, she spoke, "Oh, Buffy, I don't know why he would do something like this. I don't think we have all the answers yet. Don't worry, we'll find him, and he's probably all safe with Dawn. There's probably a good explanation for everything."  
  
I looked up at her with wide eyes. "But, what if it's not...all okay, I mean? What if there's no explanation? What if Dawn's...what if something terrible has happened to Dawn? I-I mean, the spell couldn't locate her..."  
  
"The spell isn't perfect," Willow patiently repeated. She wiped my tears away with her other napkin. "And there'll be an explanation. There always is. Until then, we gotta keep thinking positive and keep going, so we can figure this out."  
  
"I don't know if I have any positive-ness left in me," I said despondently.  
  
"Well, I have enough for both of us," she maintained with her confident, everything-will-be-all-right tone.  
  
"Good." My eyes dropped to the napkin twisted in my hands. "Why do the guys I fall in love with always have some major problem or do something horrible and twisted to hurt me? Why can't I meet a nice guy who doesn't do stuff like this...who doesn't hurt me so bad? I mean, Spike even promised that he would never hurt me when we started over."  
  
"Well, everybody hurts the other person when they're in a relationship. You've just had some extreme examples. And, you haven't heard Spike's side, yet. Maybe he has a real understandable reason for what he's done. I mean, in the last three years, has he given you any reason to doubt his love and concern? Has he given you any reason not to trust him?"  
  
"Well, no."  
  
"See, that's better than both Angel and Riley. Maybe you should continue that trust just a little longer 'til we hear from him."  
  
"Maybe." I knew that Willow was just trying to convince me to keep going, and she had a point about trusting Spike. However, given my track record with men, accepting that was easier said than done. All my previous relationships had ended up causing pain to me and the people I cared most about.  
  
"And, hey, we'll royally kick Spike's butt no matter what's happened."  
  
"We will?" My tone contained a spark of hope, partly for my own sanity and partly for Willow's.  
  
"Yep! We definitely will." She started the engine.  
  
"Okay." I sniffled and presented Willow with a lopsided smile. "Pity party's over. Let's go! Spike's butt is waiting."  
  
* * *  
  
Bampf!  
  
Just outside of Baton Rouge, the unexpected sharp noise from the back seat made Willow and I start in our seats. My heart thundered wildly as I flew forward and seized the dashboard to steady myself. Willow jerked the steering wheel to the right to avoid smashing into the van in front of us. The car swerved almost off the shoulder of the road into the marshy swampland that seemed to be pervasive in Louisiana even along the highways.  
  
"Anya!" Willow yelped as she steadied the car's path. "Don't do that! You almost got us killed!"  
  
"Sorry," Anya grumped from behind us. I could almost picture her arms crossed and her face in a characteristic pout.  
  
"Yea, Anya," I added, "We brought the cell phone with us if you remember." I held up the hunter green phone. "And look." I twisted around to show her more closely and pointed at the tiny blinking screen. "I set it to on like Xander told us to do when it was in range of the tower thingy."  
  
"Couldn't you have just tried to call us first?" Willow suggested, looking at Anya in the rearview mirror.  
  
"Oh, didn't think of that. Xander told me to take care of contacting you guys while he went and took care of the other things," Anya replied, thoughtfully. "Maybe next time."  
  
Resuming a more comfortable position in the seat, I sighed. "You have news for us, Anya?"  
  
"Oh, yes. Very good news. Xander and I agreed that you would be very pleased and should know right away. He wanted to tell you himself, but he had to take care of those other things, which I'll tell you about as soon as I tell you about the other. I'm kinda worried about him, so I'll have to keep it brief. Don't want him to do what he's doing by himself. But you know how men are...always trying to take care of things by themselves and insisting on not taking any help when it's offered. Well, I think that..."  
  
"Anya!" Willow rolled her eyes at me and broke into Anya's continuing irrelevant rant. "What do you have to tell us?"  
  
"Oh, yea! Sorry. You know me...rambling off the subject." Anya ceased talking with her hands as she had been and leaned closer between the bucket seats. "What was I supposed to share...oh, yes! Dawn was located! Willow's friend found her!"  
  
"Really!" My breath caught in my throat. "Where?"  
  
"In New Orleans...the French Quarter. Willow's friend...Cynthia, is that her name?...said that Dawn's presence was only detected for a brief window of time. Then, she disappeared again."  
  
"Why?" My questions were unelaborated. I was anxious for more information and the bare facts.  
  
"Well," Anya explained, "probably some other magick is hiding her location."  
  
"That's interesting," Willow commented. "Must be someone with power."  
  
"Yes. Spike's in New Orleans, too. Same area." Then, Anya noticed the wires hanging down from the dash near Willow's steering wheel. "Wow, he and Dawn did a number on your car, Willow. It must have been some first driving lesson."  
  
"Is that all you know, Anya?" I pressed.  
  
"Well, there is something in Sunnydale," she said, fingering the silver charm that she always wore around her neck.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Just the normal vampire activity. Xander went out to wait by a couple of fresh graves. Speaking of which, I better get back to help him."  
  
"Who were they?" I vaguely wondered if they might be related to the vamps in the mansion.  
  
"Umm. A local anesthesiologist. And the nurse from his office, I think."  
  
"Hmmm." I filed away the information for later. "Okay, thanks, Anya. Guess we'll head to New Orleans. Won't take but about two hours, right?"  
  
Keeping her eyes fixed on the road, Willow nodded. "Better help Xander, Anya."  
  
"You're welcome. And okay." Anya acknowledged me and Willow, respectively. Her arm made a small move to teleport away.  
  
Before she could vanish, I had a recommendation. "And, Anya?"  
  
"What?" She sounded slightly annoyed.  
  
I peered back at her and waved the cell phone at her. "Call next time."  
  
She smiled, eyes sparkling with mirth. Then, she was gone.  
  
* * *  
  
The crowd on Bourbon Street was thinning during mid-week as I expected. Willow and I walked casually down the trash-laden, car-less street, blending in with the throng of people like tourists in our sun dresses. I observed a rat creeping past a man standing in front of a seafood restaurant. The apron-clad man was clutching a stack of menus and urging people to enter and eat. I wrinkled my nose. Who would want to eat in a rat-filled restaurant on a street that smelled like something rotten? I supposed that the ambiance of New Orleans was what mattered and not the quality of the health control or the food. We passed a kareoke and piano bar and several tiny hole-in-the-wall shops selling brightly painted porcelain masks, Mardi Gras beads, cheap T-shirts, and postcards.  
  
"Buffy, what are we looking for again?" Willow seemed uncertain as she stared wide-eyed at the strip bars on the left.  
  
"Vamps." I was resolute, professional slayer Buffy now. My every sense organ was on alert.  
  
"Oh." She skittered to the left when a tall, scantily-dressed drag queen stepped suddenly out of the door to a private bar. "Seen any, yet?"  
  
"One or two, but they haven't *felt* right. Know what I mean?"  
  
"I guess so." Willow tucked strands of red hair behind her ears with both hands and then patted the travel pack attached around her waist. "Got the stakes ready to assist with the slayage whenever you're ready, Dr. Summers."  
  
"We won't need them right away," I assured my friend, pausing in my search to offer her a smile. "I'll let you know. Right now, we're just looking for a vamp to follow."  
  
"Oh." She seemed mollified by my explanation.  
  
Then, I saw *him*.  
  
The right vampire.  
  
I slowed Willow down with a hand on her forearm. She glanced in the direction I was looking. A tall dark-haired vampire dressed in a dark suit and wearing a large silver charm on a chain around his neck was skulking in the opposite direction from where we were walking. He was attempting to camouflage himself in the crowd of tourists but failing miserably.  
  
"Him?" she whispered in my ear.  
  
I nodded, stealthily permitting the vamp to walk past and then changing directions to pursue him. He guided a trembling Willow and I through the nearly empty streets south of Bourbon Street. Ignoring the extraneous sights around me, I remained focused on not allowing him to sense us in any way until we could catch up to and question him.  
  
On a street close to the Mississippi River, the vamp entered a night club, ostentatiously called "The Lean Monkey." Jazz music poured out of every crack in the old building. What did I expect in New Orleans?  
  
"Are we going in?" Willow asked, bringing me out of my reverie.  
  
"What? Yes. Just giving him a minute to get in further. No need to crowd him in the doorway."  
  
"What exactly are we trying to do?"  
  
"I just have a feeling...you'll have to trust me on this one, Will." I didn't know exactly what I was going to do with this particular vampire. I was relying on my slayer instinct.  
  
She unzipped her pouch, removing two wooden stakes. "I'm getting these out, then. Just in case."  
  
"Good idea." I took the stake she extended.  
  
* * *  
  
Tailing people, much less vampires, without them noticing me was not my strongest ability. In this instance, however, the crowds made things much easier on me. Huddled in a corner near the bar, Willow and I searched for our vampire target by scanning over the people who were sitting on bar stools, standing, and dancing to the slow number that blared over the speakers.  
  
"There he is," Willow said just loudly enough so she could be heard over the music and conversation.  
  
Squinting through the cigarette smoke haze, my heart dropped. *Spike.* Spike was here...on the dance floor...in the arms of another woman...a *very* beautiful woman with auburn hair, flawless skin, a skimpy black dress, and tall pumps. Words could not describe the raw pain that twisted within me.  
  
Willow saw my stricken expression and looked confused until she glimpsed what I was seeing. Anger snapped inside me, replacing the hurt and spreading a smoldering fire through my limbs and into my face. My fists clenched involuntarily. I felt something in my hand...my stake. All at once, I knew for what purpose I could use the wood.  
  
"Buffy!" Willow asserted. "In this case, violence is not the answer. Isn't that what you were saying outside on the street?"  
  
"No," I growled, ready to fight my way through anything in my path. Sweat beaded on my forehead. Humidity even permeated the air inside the club. "Now *is* the time to get answers from a very doomed vamp whose name is Spike."  
  
Willow wrapped her fingers around my fist that held the stake. "Wait, Buffy. Look."  
  
Doubtfully, I surveyed the street vamp sidle up to Spike and that...that...*her*. Spike slipped out of the embrace, turning to speak with the other vampire. Willow tugged me along, remaining in the shadows. She was drawing us nearer the conversation, so we could eavesdrop.  
  
When Willow and I finally found a place to roost, I forcibly calmed my rage further as I strained to hear what Spike was saying. As soon as I stopped moving, Spike's head lifted briefly. Confusion and uncertainty...and love?...flickered across his face as he glanced around as if searching for something. My heart foolishly danced with hope. Part of me longed for him to find me in the din of the club and chase all my fears away. But, just as quickly as he was distracted from what he was saying, he refocused. Disappointment soared, especially when *she* clasped his hand. I seethed inside at what I was witnessing.  
  
Abruptly, Spike whipped out a wooden stake from an unknown hiding place, and the vampire we'd been following exploded into a cloud of dust. I was shocked when the people around him didn't even seem to notice. People in New Orleans must be highly habituated to weird occurrences...or maybe everyone was just drunk by midnight.  
  
"Buffy, did you get that?" Willow was talking to me.  
  
"Get what?" Had I missed something?  
  
"What the vamp said to Spike?" she asked impatiently.  
  
"I couldn't hear a thing." Distracted by my feelings, I hadn't heard anything.  
  
"Boy, for someone with supposed heightened slayer senses, you sure are deaf."  
  
I glared at her, and she snickered. The music changed, and I noted that Spike was gone. *Damn! I was so ready to kick his butt!*  
  
Returning to serious mode, Willow reported, "Travis said..."  
  
"Who's Travis?"  
  
"The other vamp. Anyway, Travis said that he was left behind by his gang. He'd been out hunting, and they forgot him. Apparently, he recognized Spike. He was one of Spike's old minions. Anyway, when Spike asked Travis for the full story, he said that his group took several older men and a young girl out of New Orleans because of a security breach."  
  
"Security breach?" I fought the urge to chase after Spike.  
  
"I'm betting that Dawn made a little escape."  
  
"Oh!" That made perfect sense to me. Dawn was turning out to be a resourceful young woman. Spike and I had raised her well in the last few years. I mentally shook myself. No thoughts about Spike allowed! They only hurt.  
  
"And then, they recaptured her."  
  
"Where did Travis say they went?"  
  
"Some place in Texas...just over the Louisiana-Texas border...back the direction we came."  
  
I was quiet.  
  
"Buffy?" Willow prodded gently. "You do realize what this means?"  
  
"What?" My eyes were wide with vulnerability...*so* not a good trait for a slayer who needed to be currently prepared for battle.  
  
"Spike didn't hurt Dawn. He's trying to save her."  
  
"But, why's he with that other...woman?"  
  
"I don't know that one. Maybe she's helping him in some capacity."  
  
"Oh." I wasn't too certain about the helping part. She was probably "helping" him in more ways than one. "Wait. What about all the blood in Dawn's room...I mean, it was her blood and everything...and Spike's missing stuff?"  
  
"I don't know the answer to that one either, Buffy."  
  
Straightening my shoulders in determination, I brushed the stray tears out of the corners of my eyes. "Texas, it is."  
  
end of chapter 4  
  
**Note, Travis means "at the crossroads," which is symbolic of this chapter.** 


	6. Chapter 5: Merging Maelstrom

Title: Hurricane, Chapter 5: Merging Maelstrom Author: Sandy S. E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com Rating: R Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN. Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6 Dedication: For Thia...who is a new and dear friend and whose creativity inspires me! :o) Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy's worst nightmare comes true. Spike's POV. Spike and Callie are traveling to Texas when they run across a little problem.  
  
Merging Maelstrom  
  
"Roaming in thought over the Universe, I saw the little that is Good steadily hastening towards immortality,/And the vast that is evil I saw hastening to merge itself and become lost and dead." -From Roaming in Thought by Walt Whitman  
  
"Every time I try to give us space,/I see your picture/That angelic face,/And I know I can't last another day./For without you,/I've lost my way." -From Heartache Central, a song by my brother, John, (June 6, 2002)  
  
Running my finger over the wrinkled picture of Buffy that I always carried with me, I closed my eyes, pulling forth the memories of her sweet scent, her golden hair that glinted in the lights, her brilliant green eyes that shone with love for me (for *me*?), and her soft tiny fingers that stroked the skin on my face. Even after three years with her, I remained amazed that I was with her at all. I wondered what she was doing now. For a brief instant, I had thought I sensed in the jazz club in New Orleans. Maybe I just missed her.  
  
"What are you thinking about?" Callie was driving, but she noticed the change in my demeanor.  
  
"Not what...who. I'm thinking about Buffy. I miss her. I wish I'd taken the time to try and call her again before we left New Orleans." I opened my eyes, taking one last glance at Buffy's image before shoving the photo in my jeans pocket. I was partially irritated at being caught daydreaming about Buffy again.  
  
Since I'd rescued Callie from Paul, she and I had traveled across the states together. We'd become rather close. She knew that I worked for and loved the Slayer, that I had a soul, and that I was searching for Dawn who was almost like my little sister. Callie didn't seem to care about anything except the fact that I'd rescued her from Paul, and therefore, she granted me her loyalty and assistance until she felt her debt was pain.  
  
"How many times have you tried to call now?"  
  
"I can't remember. Every time, I keep getting the sodding answering machine."  
  
Glancing over at me with her red curls floating across her shoulders, she smiled. "Why don't you try leaving her a message, silly?"  
  
"Because I don't want to tell her what's going on in a message. I'd rather tell her live and in-person...even if over the phone. I'd *like* to get Dawn back before something else goes wrong."  
  
"Do you really think Buffy's sitting around waiting for your phone call?"  
  
I sighed unnecessarily. "No, of course not! That isn't who Buffy is. She'll be figuring this out on her own. But, it's not like I could stop her even if she knew I was on it. Sod it! I don't know what to do! So, I'm just going to continue on with this path! Buffy can take care of herself, and this way, I don't have to deal with her bitching about what I should and shouldn't be doing!"  
  
"It would interfere with your ability to think?" Callie surmised aloud, not hiding the sarcasm in her tone.  
  
I slouched in the seat. "Yea." I punched the car door in frustration. "I hate this being in the car business! Can't do anything in the car."  
  
Callie switched gears. "Shouldn't you be sleeping? It's my shift to drive; your's to sleep."  
  
"Sleep? I normally sleep during the day...awake at night," I grumped. "I *am* a vampire the last time I checked."  
  
"Well, did you at least drink your dinner?"  
  
"No," I replied sulkily, closing my eyes. Despite the fact that I was over one hundred years older than Callie, sometimes I felt like a little kid around her mothering nature.  
  
A second later, a strange feeling twisted in my gut...the kind of uncomfortable but not quite painful feeling I only received around magick...extremely powerful magick. So much for sleep.  
  
My muscles and skin tingling violently, I sat up abruptly.  
  
"Stop the car, Callie!" I knew Callie must feel the magick, too, but I didn't question why she wasn't reacting. "Now!"  
  
* * *  
  
Thirteen six-foot tall, well-muscled K'Charra demons stood with their arms linked in an up-raised clearing beyond moss-laden trees rooted in the sinking marsh lands just beyond the edge of the highway. Torches were attached to the trees, lighting the clearing. Arranged around the demons, twenty-six men dressed in light grey sweat suits were tied with thick ropes to thirteen jagged wooden posts that jutted up above the men's heads. Their mouths were gagged with rags, and the heady scent of fear rolled off their bodies, causing an unintentional growl to emit from my throat.  
  
The horned, dark grey demons were chanting simultaneously in a deep guttural language. K'Charra demons were known for drawing the energy of souls from their victims and channeling the energy to a source who could then use the energy to cast a variety of dangerous spells. When the K'Charra ritual was complete, the bodies of the victims disintegrated into nothing.  
  
Without a doubt, I knew who the source was. And comprehending that information, I recognized that I was walking into a trap. And sod everything in hell and on earth! My conscience notified me that I couldn't just walk away from the situation...not as I would have in the past.  
  
When Callie spoke softly behind me as she peered over my shoulder, I noticed that my jaw and fists were clenched. "Spike, what's going on?"  
  
The demons' voices were increasing in volume and becoming a constant hum, and a glowing mist was rising from the men and merging in the middle of the circle over the demons' heads.  
  
Leaping through the underbrush ready for battle, I called back at her, "I'm gonna stop this ritual, ducks! If you want to help, follow my lead!" When I jerked the first demon from his position in the chain, the shimmering vapor dissipated, and the ritual was disrupted. The men recovered the soul energy they had lost and slipped into unconsciousness. They would likely sleep through their entire rescue.  
  
Callie scrambled after me. "What do I do?"  
  
Punching the demon in the face, I replied calmly, "Go for the neck. The only way to kill them is to break the neck."  
  
As Callie joined the fray, I grasped the first demon's head and twisted as he flailed his limbs helplessly at me. I smiled grimly at the satisfying crunching sound.  
  
One down...about twelve.... Clinging to the back of one of the giant scaly demons, Callie overpowered him, breaking his neck. Landing neatly on her feet as the lifeless demon body fell, she grinned at me. Eleven to go.  
  
We had the advantage of surprise, but now the K'Charra demons were recovering from the shock and were moving as a unit toward us. We were badly outnumbered. Damn! Why couldn't they attack us one at a time like good little demons?  
  
"Spike, we're stuck!" Callie lamented.  
  
Even as adrenaline rushed through my borrowed blood, an uncanny repose washed over me. Oh, well. I shrugged my shoulders. I loved a challenge, especially when the risk involved fighting. Shaking my head, I forced on my vamp face with minimum effort. If the demons were advancing on us, I would advance first.  
  
Lunging at the K'Charra demon leading the pack, I knocked him back with a sharp kick to his head, deftly dodging his neighbor's arm that swung through the air where my head once was.  
  
Donning her ridges and fangs in imitation of me, Callie snarled and scooted into the fight after me, punching, kicking, and scratching with her vamp fingernails. "You're crazy!"  
  
"I know," I answered, sweeping another demon off his feet as I grabbed another's forearm, wrenched it behind his back, and cracked his neck.  
  
Time passed quickly, and the K'Charra demons' muscular advantage and our waning endurance became apparent. We somehow managed to kill three more demons. My shirt got torn off at some point, and Callie's ponytail fell so that she was constantly blowing and shaking curls out of her face. I was now pushing most of the demons away from me, and Callie fought them off with her back to mine. We were on the defensive.  
  
Suddenly, I felt cool air rush over the bare skin on my back as one of the demons ripped Callie back.  
  
"Spike!" Her voice was frightened.  
  
I whirled just in time to see the K'Charra demon slam her against the closest tree, an exposed branch narrowly missing her heart. Before I could help her, a demon fist smashed into my upper back, stunning me and knocking me to the moist ground. The owner of the fist sank to his knees over me. I felt his hands gripping my neck. I closed my eyelids, waiting for the expected crunch of my neck.  
  
Just then, Callie shrieked as the demon holding her against the tree slapped her cheek with a taloned hand, leaving deep grooves in her cheek. The demon hovering over me paused, and my eyes shot open. Blood poured over Callie's cold skin, and the metallic odor reinvigorated my body. Intending to decapitate her, Callie's demon closed his large hand around her pale, slender neck.  
  
In one motion, I dug my fingers into the damp clay, shifted my weight onto to my forearms, and twisted my hips so that my legs tossed the demon on my back over my head. His hands loosened automatically as he tried to avoid landing on his head. Springing toward Callie, I shoved the other demon away from her.  
  
Callie sank to the ground, rubbing her neck gently with the muddy, blood-covered fingertips of one hand. With the other hand, she pushed the flapping skin of her cheek back up to its original position on her face.  
  
"Are you okay?" I asked with concern.  
  
She didn't look at me and didn't respond with words. Instead, her expression told me everything I needed to know. The converging demons were reflected in her eyes.  
  
We were in big, big trouble.  
  
* * *  
  
The clear, incisive voice that rose over the din of the K'Charra demons' approaching grunts was like heavenly music to my ears.  
  
"So, what's it take for a girl to get an invite to the fun?"  
  
As the demons turned toward the new sound, they parted to reveal the Slayer with her legs spread, and her hands placed lightly on her hips. Tilting her head so that her blond hair swayed to the right, she smiled at them. A scarlet-capped, grim-faced Willow stood slightly in the background, an ax held firmly in a ready position.  
  
"Cause I must say, it looks like you've started on the party games. And Willow and I want to play."  
  
Brandishing the ax, Willow stepped out of the shadows. "What do you say here in Louisiana? Laissez les bon temps rouler? I'm ready to let the good times...uhm, heads roll."  
  
Leaving their backs vulnerable, the K'Charra demons flew at the two women as a group. While Buffy and Willow began their attack, Callie and I completed the offense from behind. The battle gained a new energy in our favor. Willow hacked at the demons until they fell and then chopped their heads off. Buffy was kicking, punching, ducking, and rolling as she confused and beat down each demon in her path. Callie and I fought hard as well but were evidently more exhausted than the two newcomers.  
  
At one point, Buffy reached my side.  
  
"So, Spike. What's with the...the...your partner?" she asked casually as she flipped a demon so that his head crashed into the ground, breaking his neck cleanly.  
  
"Her name is Callie." I smirked, blocking a demon's blows. "Jealous, love?"  
  
Even though I couldn't look at her, I could almost visualize her eyebrows lift at my comment. "No," she asserted firmly as she danced around the demon I just felled. "Just wondering is all."  
  
"Uh, huh."  
  
Buffy didn't have time to formulate a response because the fight separated us again. I noted that Willow and Callie had paired together to rally against the demons attacking them. As I wrestled with my own K'Charra demon, I witnessed Willow being picked up and thrown across the clearing. She landed with a thunk, losing consciousness. Callie continued working, protecting herself and the fallen woman.  
  
I managed to kill the demon assaulting me and saw Buffy in front of me with the final demon. In a second, the demon maneuvered Buffy near one of the long broad poles that held two of the still senseless men. He tipped the wooden pole, successfully pinning Buffy to the ground. As soon as I knew that she was struggling to no avail, I rammed into the demon's body and reached up, ending his life.  
  
At Buffy's side, I squatted, tenderly brushing her hair out of her face. "Buffy? Are you okay? Can you move?"  
  
Tears glistened in her eyes as she grimaced. "I t-think I'll be okay...I'm just stunned. Give me a sec." Raw pain registered on her face as she tried to push up with her arms. "Ouch. Damn." She laid back down.  
  
I circled her worriedly. The men attached to the pole were still gone to the world. "I don't want to move anything until I find out where you're injured....And I think I'll have to get Callie to help me move this thing that's on top of you."  
  
"Spike. Come here." Her voice sounded urgent.  
  
Kneeling beside her again, I caressed her cheek. Despite her injury, her heartbeat sounded steady and strong. "What, pet?"  
  
"I-I still love you."  
  
Bending forward, I kissed her forehead, inhaling the familiar scent of her sweat and shampoo. "I love you, too," I reassured her, clasping her hand briefly and awkwardly.  
  
To my surprise, she seemed relieved.  
  
"Did you think I stopped, Buffy?"  
  
"I don't understand what's happening."  
  
"Neither do I. But I have some theories."  
  
Buffy closed her eyes, wincing from the pain. When she opened her lids, her attention returned to the immediate situation. "Spike? How's Willow?"  
  
Callie's stance near Willow mirrored my own next to Buffy. "Callie's tending to Red."  
  
"Is she okay?" She paused. "Willow, I mean."  
  
My eyes detected Willow's chest rising and falling. "She's alive but unconscious."  
  
The log shifted, and Buffy groaned, almost slipping into the darkness of oblivion. I couldn't stand to see her in pain.  
  
"Callie! Could you assist me in getting this off of Buffy?"  
  
"Sure!"  
  
As Callie approached, I kept my eyes fixed on Buffy, so when a needle pricked my arm, I was caught off guard. My muscles immediately began to weaken, but my vision was clear as I saw Callie sneering at me from above.  
  
"Callie?"  
  
Merely watching me, Callie said nothing in response. The truth thundered through my brain. I turned back to Buffy who was striving against the pain to free herself from her burden.  
  
Feeling like my mind was melting away, I left Buffy with a final message.  
  
"Find Dawn first."  
  
End of chapter 5 


	7. Chapter 6: Against the Tide

Title: Hurricane, Chapter 6: Against the Tide Author: Sandy S. E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com Rating: R Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN. Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6 Dedication: For Thia...who is a new and dear friend and whose creativity inspires me! :o) Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy's worst nightmare comes true. Dawn's POV. Dawn is being held and abused by Garrek. Takes place in Beaumont, Texas. Okay, a little bit of violence against Dawn in this chapter.  
  
Against the Tide  
  
"Yet, Freedom! Yet thy banner, torn, but flying,/Streams like the thunder- storm against the wind." -From "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage" by Lord Byron  
  
"What's that horrible smell?" I asked boldly, determined not to show my captors the heightened fear I felt. I was only eighteen-years-old, but being the sister of the Slayer and being partially raised by a vampire was sort of conducive to growing up faster than most teenagers my age. Therefore, I could hide my emotions with ease.  
  
Garrek's minions were busily chaining me to a wall in a charred dorm building on a local university campus. The dorm, which I learned had been burnt beyond repair during a construction accident, was the perfect place to hold prisoners because the building was completely abandoned and was surrounded by a large chain fence. The manacles the vamps were using on me were cold and hard against my wrists and ankles. Garrek observed a safe distance away, smiling through the dark beard on his face. All the vampires continued to wear the ebony-colored clothing and the silver charms.  
  
"That, my dear, is the smell of industry...the intoxicating perfume of pollution." Garrek spoke each syllable deliberately as he approached my now inert form.  
  
"Why is that good?" I wondered aloud. I bit my lip. I could use the magic that Willow had taught me to free myself, but what could I possibly do if I got loose...except get killed?  
  
Garrek's foul breath swept over my cheeks, and I valiantly kept myself from shuddering. "Because industry means money...and power." He stepped back, gesturing with his arms toward his minions. "And isn't attaining money and power the whole reason for existing here on this planet?" The vampires grunted in agreement and flashed pointed teeth at me.  
  
Retorting quickly, I did my best to imitate Buffy's confident quips. "Nope. Sorry, but I don't agree. I guess I missed that class. Maybe you missed the one on developing a conscience and having empathy for others so that you could develop healthy relationships." Well, my little speech was probably not exactly what Buffy would have said.  
  
I was rewarded with a sound slap to my cheekbone and eye. Wincing and blowing the long hair out of my mouth, I stared into Garrek's glaring eyes. I blinked rapidly in attempt to wash the fresh blood out of my eye.  
  
"Well, missy, you're in my classroom now." With that statement, the vampire leader extended his thick red tongue, pressing the saliva-laden muscle to my face and licking up the blood that exuded from my injuries.  
  
Gleeful at my horrified expression, he moved away again, snapping his fingers. "Bring Daniel out here."  
  
Two more vampires dragged Daniel from the next room. His appearance was one of someone who had been beaten within inches of permanent death. His bare back and chest were lacerated with whip and holy water burns, blood encrusted knife carvings, and indigo bruises. His eyes were squinted and swollen. One side of his rib cage appeared partially concave. He wore nothing but a torn pair of jeans. He couldn't stand on his own, so the vampires held him on his feet.  
  
"Now, in this classroom, Dawn, what do you think happens when pupils disobey the rules?"  
  
I didn't move a muscle and watched silently as a vampire from the shadows slipped a crudely carved wooden stake into Garrek's hand.  
  
"You get punished," Garrek continued as he paced back and forth in front of Daniel, slapping the stake against his palm. "But, first..." He paused in front of Daniel. "To be a fair teacher, I have to ask you to say you're sorry for attempting to escape with Dawn and let you say what you have to say."  
  
Light in his eyes for the first time since entering the room, Daniel met my gaze. "Dawn, the part of me that's human loved you and cherished the friendship. He knows he hurt you, and he's sorry."  
  
My heart sank as the gravity of what Daniel said registered. My relationship with Daniel hadn't been the same since he began dating Amalia, my fellow classmate and ex-friend, six months ago. Before I could decide if Daniel meant the words or if the demon inside him was just playing games, Garrek punched the damaged portion of his ribs. Daniel bent at the waist and groaned like a wounded animal.  
  
"To the teacher...to me! Apologize to *me*, you imbecile!" Garrek shouted, black eyes sparking. I could hardly make out Daniel's next words. "*Never*. I would never apologize to you. I didn't ask for this. *I* deserve some respect. I'm smarter than your whole lot here." He nodded at the glowering minions.  
  
Garrek rolled his eyes. "Well, look where it got you."  
  
Before Daniel could form a comeback, Garrek plunged the stake into his heart. Daniel crumbled into ashes before me. The sight of the vampire, who was once one of my best friends and my secret crush, dying overwhelmed my thoughts and feelings. I felt like I couldn't breathe, and as Garrek came for me, I fell into the abyss of unconsciousness.  
  
* * *  
  
Music found its way to my ears as my mind stirred to life. I tried to reach out a hand to hit the snooze button on the alarm next to my bed, but my arm wouldn't move. For some reason, sunlight did not filter through my eyelids. Maybe the sky was cloudy. My eyes resisted opening and seemed crusted over. As I became more aware, pain throbbed through my arms, legs, and especially my neck.  
  
Then, I remembered where I was. Leaning my head to my shoulder, I wiped away what I now knew was blood on my eye from when Garrek hit me earlier. When my vision focused, I noted the hundreds of long white candles glowing eerily in the fire-scarred room. The vampire minions remained cloaked in the shadows, but I could tell they were the ones singing. What had Garrek done? Had he turned a bunch of opera singers? More likely he had done a spell to make them sing so precisely and beautifully.  
  
Garrek himself was seated in what appeared to be a very bizarre yoga position in the middle of a huge charcoal circle that had been drawn on the floor. Garrek wore a solid black robe that covered his entire body except for his hands and bare feet. Charcoal drawn symbols that matched the circle were drawn on his face. An ancient book lay open before him.  
  
He glanced up when he detected my movements. His eyes were indistinguishable from the darkness around him. "Welcome." The word sounded hollow in my mind, and I realized he hadn't opened his mouth to speak.  
  
Lifting his arms slowly above his head in defiance of the more rapid tempo of the music, he flung his head back and began chanting in an indeterminable tongue. The volume of the chanting pressed against the inside of my skull. As the chanting grew faster, a wind began blowing. I noted that the vampire singers staggered and braced themselves against the wall under the force of the gale, but the candle flames did not even flicker. My hair flew into my face, and my body strained against the chains that bound me. I didn't scream but held my breath.  
  
Abruptly, everything...the chanting, the singing, the wind...ceased. The candles snuffed out. I heard the vampire minions collapse to the ground. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw Garrek bowed low to the ground within the circle. Slowly, I let myself attempt to breathe. When the situation seemed calm, I began to feel a strange sucking sensation deep in my abdomen. At first, I compared the feeling to cramps. The pressure built as the seconds passed until I thought that my intestines were going to burst out of my gut. Staring down at my stomach, I witnessed a effervescent neon green light flowed hesitatingly out of me. Somehow, I was resisting without even trying.  
  
The tide of the gossamer luminance...my essence...the core of the mystical key inside me...appeared compelled to extend toward Garrek. When the glow reached Garrek's prone form, I concentrated, willing that part of me to return. I managed to slow the advance, but the pull was too strong. When the magic entered Garrek, he rose to his feet effortlessly and stood with arms raised.  
  
I was failing, and the more of me he ingested and drained from me, the weaker I became. I was so tired. My muscles went limp and my eyes shut. With a curiously calm clarity, I realized I was dying.  
  
* * *  
  
All at once, the force in my body completely relented. With a whoosh, everything I'd lost came rushing back into me. As my energy returned, I gasped aloud at the change.  
  
Something slammed against the wall of the building, and a voice spoke.  
  
"So, you wanna tell me what you were doing to my sister?"  
  
Buffy! Buffy was here! I spotted the lanterns she and Willow carried, and saw that Buffy had Garrek pinned against the wall plaster. She held a stake to his heart.  
  
Willow blocked the only exit to the room, gripping the handle of her ax and eyeing the minion vamps closely. Weakened by the intensity of the spell, the vampires were reluctant to challenge her...at least for the moment.  
  
"Buffy! Willow!" I called.  
  
"Hey, Dawnie!" Willow responded. "You okay?"  
  
"Yea. Sort of."  
  
"Talk!" Buffy jammed the stake into Garrek's chest so that blood flowed over her hand.  
  
"What do you think I was doing?" His eyes still black, Garrek grinned at my sister.  
  
"I don't think you're in a position to be smiling...much less, asking questions."  
  
"What does it look like?" he goaded, licking his lips. Willow knew. "He was doing a spell." While keeping her ax raised, she inched toward the still open book on the floor. "An ancient spell!...For extracting powerful energies from whatever...or whoever holds them."  
  
Holding Garrek firmly, Buffy took a chance and glanced back at me. "Dawnie, are you hurt anywhere?"  
  
"Just my eye and the spots where the chains are." I felt a bit safer, so I cast a simple spell to release myself. Landing lightly on my feet, I strode across the floor and picked up the forgotten stake that Garrek had used on Daniel. "I'm ready to fight."  
  
Noting Buffy's distraction, Garrek wrested the stake from her hand and leapt toward his minions. Bad move. He was trapped in the room. Frantic, he acted hastily and grabbed Willow, flinging the ax away and holding the stake to her chest.  
  
"One movement, girl, and your little friend is dead," he growled.  
  
"So, you wanna fight." Buffy closed in on the vampire. I didn't comprehend why he wasn't using his magic on her. Buffy noticed, too. "What's wrong, mojo boy? Too weak from your attempt to kill my sister to cast a spell?"  
  
"How did you find me?" Garrek's eyes were wild as he tried to buy himself some time.  
  
"Willow used to be a witch. She sensed it a mile away. And we got a tip from a vamp you left behind in New Orleans. Kinda sloppy if you ask me."  
  
"You don't know what you're caught in the middle of, do you?"  
  
Without warning, Buffy kicked the stake out of Garrek's hand, shoved Willow away from the vampire, and followed up with a second kick to Garrek's head. Willow used the momentum from Buffy's push to fall into a roll, ending up right next to her ax. Whipping up, she and I launched ourselves at the recuperating minions who were ambling our direction.  
  
I counted six vampires, three for Willow and three for me. The first vampire was clumsy and practically fell on my stake, bursting into a satisfying cloud of dust. Barely aware of Willow's easy swings on my left, I dropped to the ground and slid between my next vampire's legs when he attempted to knock me to the ground. I never fought so well but knew that the vamps were weaker than normal. With more battle experience and an ax, Willow made short work of her vampires and killed my third just as he reached for my neck.  
  
Coughing in the flying dust, I said, "Thanks, Willow."  
  
She smiled. "No prob." Studying me, she was confused. "Dawnie, are you hurt?"  
  
"No, I'm mostly fine. Why do you keep asking me that?" The lines that normally appeared on Willow's forehead when she was concerned were readily visible. "Because your room at home was covered in blood when you went missing. Spike was gone, too, with his clothes and car."  
  
"Really?" Then, I recalled something. The detail hadn't seemed important at the time but now made total sense. "Daniel...Daniel was at the blood drive. Y-you know the one at the school?" I explained excitedly, waving my hands at her.  
  
Willow frowned.  
  
"Y-you know the one Spike told me about...that the whole school went to because of the kid that needed a bone marrow transplant? Daniel was there. I saw him but didn't talk to him at the blood drive."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Daniel's a new vampire. He probably came up with the plan to kidnap me for Garrek. Daniel really wanted to be respected by him. He told me. I bet he took the blood I donated and spread it all over the room to confuse you. Hey, what'd you say about Spike?"  
  
"Guys!" Buffy shouted. "Help needed here!"  
  
We spun around to see Buffy being overpowered by Garrek. As we ran to her aid, Garrek motioned his arm at us. An invisible force flung us to the ground and held us. Garrek was slowly regaining his magick power. Willow and I were helpless. Buffy was striving to gain a foothold when he lifted her up by the neck.  
  
"Garrek!"  
  
Garrek's head snapped toward the doorway. My eyes followed his. Towering in the doorway, Angel, my sister's vampire ex-boyfriend who now ran "Angel's Investigations" in Los Angeles, was staring Garrek down.  
  
"Put her down!"  
  
To my amazement, Garrek obeyed, and Buffy collapsed, gasping.  
  
Angel hurried to Buffy's side, his dark leather coat flapping. He touched her arm gently. "Are you okay?"  
  
She granted him a small smile. "Yea, just hurt in another fight is all. Made this one harder."  
  
Garrek tried to slip by Angel. Angel reached up and clasped his arm. "I don't think so. This time you've gone too far."  
  
Garrek's expression was appropriately terrified.  
  
"Release them," Angel commanded in reference to Willow and me.  
  
With a flick of Garrek's wrist, we were free. Less energetically now, I stood slowly, groaning at the pain in my ankle. Probably sprained the muscle when I fell.  
  
Willow was baffled. "I don't understand."  
  
Garrek was staring at Angel.  
  
"He's my childe," Angel admitted.  
  
Buffy moved next to me. "Oh, really?"  
  
"Sadly, yes. But, he does have to do what I say," Angel confirmed.  
  
"Cool," I said brightly. "Make him bark like a dog...or cluck like a chicken!"  
  
The corner of Angel's mouth twitched, but he didn't smile. He turned to Garrek. "So, where's Spike?"  
  
"Wouldn't you like to know."  
  
Angel punched him in the nose.  
  
"Where?" Buffy demanded.  
  
Garrek floundered.  
  
"There's more where that came from," Angel warned, eyes flashing yellow.  
  
"Up north."  
  
"Exactly where up north?" Angel asked, relaxing his hold a bit.  
  
"Alaska." Garrek took advantage of Angel's looser grip and tore away, running toward the door.  
  
Buffy snatched the stake out of my hand and threw the wood at Garrek's retreating back. He burst into dust.  
  
Angel watched the dust settle. "Buffy, there's something I have to tell you."  
  
Crossing her arms, Buffy nodded. "You sure do."  
  
Bampf!  
  
Startling everyone, Anya teleported into the middle of the room. "Am I too late to help out? Are all the bad guys dead? I just got done helping a couple of customers before I closed the Magic Shop."  
  
The end of chapter 6  
  
**Note: The full story behind Daniel, Amalia, and Dawn can be found in one of my other stories, "The Admirer." However, you don't have to read the other story to understand this one. :o) Also, the sucking feeling that Dawn feels during the ritual is symbolic of the effect a sociopath can have on a person. A dorm building really did burn up during construction at a local university in Beaumont, Texas a few years ago, but they reconstructed the building.** 


	8. Chapter 7: Eye of the Hurricane

Title: Hurricane, Chapter 7: Eye of the Hurricane Author: Sandy S. E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com Rating: R Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN. Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6 Dedication: For Thia...who is a new and dear friend and whose creativity inspires me! :o) Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy's worst nightmare comes true. Buffy's POV. Buffy, Angel, Dawn, Xander, Anya, and Willow are flying to Alaska to rescue Spike. Okay, this is an explanatory chapter....  
  
Eye of the Hurricane  
  
"No season now for calm familiar talk."  
  
-Alexander Pope, from The Iliad of Homer  
  
  
  
Dawn, Willow, Angel, Anya, and I remained quiet with exhaustion on the way from Texas to California. We'd stopped in Los Angeles to pick up Xander in Garrek's private jet, which was housed at the tiny southeast Texas airport. Surprisingly, Garrek had a human pilot on the payroll. Angel had threatened him with death unless he took us to Alaska. Somehow, I believed that the pilot was supposed to take us there anyway.  
  
The jet was large with a few separate rooms furnished with sleeping accommodations. No traces of magick or technological espionage were found. Willow was the first to race to a room for sleep, and despite my slayer strength and my curiosity about what Angel knew about Garrek, I wasn't complaining. We all needed to rest before we could even discuss the events that had been occurring, much less rescue Spike.  
  
Dawn and I were paired together in one room, Xander and Anya in another, and Willow was already fast asleep in a third. Angel remained awake in the main seating area, and Dawn had yet to join me because she was completing her before bedtime ritual. Lying back against the soft mattress and thick pillow, I relished the cool dryness of the air conditioner and the sweet clean scent of the bed linens after the damp humidity of the southern states. Of course, I'd probably be sick of the cold by the time we departed Alaska. Determined to not think about anything important, I shut my eyes, curling into the fetal position on my side. My back remained tender from the two fairly adjacent fights.  
  
An untold number of minutes later, Dawn entered the room and sank heavily beneath the sheets next to me. I sensed her positioning her body facing me. I didn't say a word but wasn't shocked when Dawn whispered to me.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
"Ummm."  
  
"Are you awake?"  
  
I slitted my eyes at her. "Yea."  
  
Watching me in the dim light of the nightlight, Dawn stated, "I need to talk with you about something."  
  
"Sure. By the way, how's your ankle?"  
  
"Much better but still a little sore. I guess I didn't sprain it after all. It just sorta felt like it. Anya made me an ice pack to use later after we get some sleep."  
  
"Umm. Makes sense." I opened my eyes wider and tucked my left hand under my cheek. "What'd you want to talk with me about?"  
  
"Daniel."  
  
Ah, I was wondering if she'd come to me about Daniel being a vampire, planning her kidnap, and being dusted. I'd let her tell me, though, and wouldn't put words in her mouth. "What about him?"  
  
"It finally hit me that he's gone. While I was brushing my teeth. I guess, I didn't fully realize what happened until I had a moment to myself."  
  
Funny how revelations like that come at the oddest moments. "Yea?"  
  
Her voice took on a somber tone. "Well, I know he was a vampire and all...meaning he was evil...and he did things for his own selfish gain. But, he was my friend, too. I mean, even though he hurt me really badly in our friendship, I still cared about him."  
  
"Just because he changed and started doing horrible things doesn't mean you can turn off your feelings or ignore the relationship you had in the past with him," I reminded her and myself. A memory of the feelings I retained for Angel after he lost his soul and began stalking me and hurting my friends flashed through my mind. "And it doesn't make it any easier to see him die in front of you."  
  
"I guess." She paused. "It was pretty horrible, huh? Kidnapping me to gain respect from Garrek. Making it look like Spike did something terrible to me."  
  
"But, you know, Daniel will never do that to anyone again."  
  
Dawn didn't respond for a few minutes. Then, she asked, "Buffy, why are people always coming up with sick ways to kidnap me or hurt me? I mean, first Wright and now Daniel. Is there something wrong with me?"  
  
My reaction was swift. "No, no, Dawnie. Nothing's wrong with you. Something really traumatic happened to each of them and influenced their behavior. I mean, Wright's parents were turned by vampires, and he had to kill them himself. He sorta went looney. And Daniel's sister was always sick, which put a lot of pressure on him. Then, he got turned, which wasn't his fault. Actually, neither of them were at fault for their situation. But, the bottom line is that each of them chose to react the way they did in the circumstances, and you just happened to be standing in their path." Our conversation echoed traces of the recent conversation I'd had with Willow during our trip to New Orleans.  
  
We smiled at each other in the darkness.  
  
Forcing her voice to sound brighter, Dawn noted, "I'm never talking to another boy again."  
  
I snorted lightly. "Uh, huh. We'll see how long that one lasts after we get back home, and the phone starts ringing."  
  
She giggled and then, sobered, "I'm really worried about Spike."  
  
Tears filled my eyes as my stomach dropped in renewed anxiety. "Me, too."  
  
"What do you think whoever it is wants from him? With us?"  
  
"I don't know, Dawnie. I sure hope Angel has a clue."  
  
Protectively, my sister patted my shoulder. "Angel will know. And we'll rescue Spike, and it'll all be okay."  
  
"Yea." I tried not to be too defeated.  
  
"Don't worry, I'll bet he's okay...no matter what they're doing to him. He knows we love him and are coming for him. It'll get him through whatever they toss at him."  
  
"I hope so," I murmured, tucking a strand of Dawn's long straight hair behind her ear.  
  
"I know so."  
  
Silence fell, and my eyelids filled with lead until I couldn't keep them open any longer. On the edge of my dreams, I heard Dawn's voice again as if from the end of a tunnel.  
  
"You know what Daniel told me before Garrek staked him?"  
  
My answer was a tad slow. "Mmm. What?"  
  
Almost inaudibly, she said, "He told me that the human inside of him loved me and cherished our friendship in the past. He said he was sorry for hurting me."  
  
Taken aback, I didn't know quite what to say.  
  
Dawn didn't wait. "Do you think that could be possible? That he could have a human piece inside that felt remorse?"  
  
Scanning over my jumbled thoughts and personal theories about Spike, Angel, and other vampires, I came to a moderately firm conclusion. "I don't honestly know. And, I don't know if I'll ever know the answer to that one."  
  
"I never got to talk with him about the whole Amalia thing. We never fixed things between us." She hesitated. "I-I lost a friend." Tears spread thin salty tracks over her skin, probably burning the wound on her eye and cheek.  
  
Letting her pour out her grief, I ran my hand over her soft hair. "Yea, Dawnie, that you did."  
  
* * *  
  
Dawn and I were the last to arrive at the meeting in the main seating area. The chairs were arranged in a circle, and Willow sat with her legs and feet underneath her, her short hair pulled into a ponytail, and a mug of steaming coffee cupped in her hands. His hair slightly mussed as if he'd been running his fingers through the brown locks nervously, Angel leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him. He peered up at me as I followed Dawn into the room, silently telegraphing me the remnant of the connection that would always remain between us. Xander lounged back in his chair, studying his breakfast burrito intently before taking each bite. Despite his collected demeanor, I could see the tightness in his jaw. Anya leaned against his shoulder, picking at her own burrito.  
  
Dawn grabbed a large burrito and two cups of orange juice off the serving cart and plopped down next to Anya, graciously leaving me the seat next to Willow. She tore the burrito in half and handed me a portion along with a cup of juice, which I took gratefully. After a few seconds, I found everyone watching me expectantly.  
  
"So," I began, "I thought we'd start with what Angel knows and then branch off to tell what we've each learned about the situation. Hopefully, it'll all be less confusing that way."  
  
Angel cleared his throat.  
  
Xander sighed and sat up. "Time for Angel's melodramatic storytelling time," he muttered, half out of the habit of picking on Angel and half trying to be silly and falling flat. Angel glared at him, but Anya was curious. "Is that bad?"  
  
Seeing that everyone was staring at him, Xander grumbled, "No." After a moment, he added, "I wish Spike was here. He'd understand."  
  
Dawn and I exchanged knowing looks. Spike would understand all right. He and Xander would be egging each other on, especially with Angel present, and nothing would ever get done.  
  
Wisely, everyone ignored Xander's last comment, and Angel began, "Years before Spike or Dru ever came on the scene, Darla and I were part of the Master's court."  
  
I shuddered slightly at the mention of the Master, the ancient vampire who had briefly killed me during the first year I lived in Sunnydale. Willow must have noticed because she patted my arm.  
  
"During that time, I sired my first vampire...Garrek. He was an American senator visiting England, and his name was different then. He was independently wealthy, and he was attractive as a first childe because he was hungry for power and money. I observed him for a time before approaching him on the last day of his trip. He had an entourage with him but lacked the finesse to control them well. I didn't want to sire a childe who would take over my position in the Master and Darla's eyes and figured I could control him."  
  
Angel took a deep, unnecessary breath, and no one interrupted him. "I'll never forget the night I sired him. He had gone to dinner with a couple of members of Parliament and was returning to his hotel with his bodyguards. I waited for him in the elevator. As soon as the doors opened, and the guards ducked in to check out the elevator, I knocked one man out and snapped the other's neck. I didn't give Garrek a choice. I just drank from his trembling body. His blood was infiltrated with alcohol, which gave me an extra giddy feeling."  
  
I had a hard time picturing Angel giddy.  
  
"I sired him by the time we reached his floor. After drinking of one of his guards, I dragged the senator unconscious to his hotel room. Darla waited for me in the tiny living room. His entourage huddled terrified in the corner of the bedroom suite. When he woke up hours later, he was starving. We fed him the members of his office, including his mistress. When he had his fill, Darla and I ate. There was one child, a ten-year-old boy, among his group, whom we saved for last. Darla wanted the boy, but when she pulled him close, Garrek reached up a hand to stop her."  
  
"Really?" Anya commented in surprise.  
  
Angel nodded. "Yes. At first, Darla was angry, but she saw the desperation in Garrek's eyes and decided to humor him. Imagine her amusement when Garrek said that the boy was his son. He explained to Darla and me that he wanted to raise his son and then turn him when he got old enough. Darla was intrigued, so she forgo eating the child, and we took Garrek and his son to the Master."  
  
Xander was chewing with his mouth partly agape. "What happened then?"  
  
"The Master was a little annoyed at having a human child in his court, but when Darla explained Garrek's plan, the Master asked to see the boy. When he saw the child, he was immediately drawn to the possibilities. The Master decided that he wanted to raise the child himself...as kind of a protégé. He told Garrek that he could visit his son as often as he wanted but that he would not be allowed to raise his son. Garrek agreed to be trained in the dark magicks and to let the Master train his son with the understanding that one day, his son would be a vampire of great power and influence."  
  
"Sounds sorta similar to the Master turning the Anointed One," Willow interrupted, referring to the child vampire that led me to the Master in Sunnydale.  
  
"Yea," Angel acknowledged. "The Master likely turned the Anointed One so quickly because he wanted a sire's influence over him. He never had that with Garrek's son, and Garrek's son eventually rebelled."  
  
"Did Garrek's son have a name?" I asked.  
  
"That's the thing. The Master never gave him a name and never allowed the name his human parents gave him to be spoken. He told the boy that he would be given a great and powerful name when he became a vampire. The Master didn't coddle the boy. He made him work for everything...food, clothing, shelter, affection. Frequently, he tortured the boy so that he would know real pain and would know what he was inflicting on others in the future. At the same time, the Master taught the boy everything that he knew about manipulating others...humans, vampires, and other types of demon. He even taught the boy to manipulate his own father. Funny thing is that the child grew to hate the Master for the pain he put him through. And he used the Master's own tricks against him. He formed a rebellion within the court. Garrek became his second in command, and together, they defeated the Master and left the court. Darla and I were gone by that time, traveling on our own. We heard about it through the demon world while we were in Egypt."  
  
"What happened to Garrek's relationship with you?" Dawn's expression said that she was drinking in every detail of the story.  
  
"Although Garrek remained connected to me as my childe, he was mostly trained by the Wicca vampires in our group. We never had much of a sire- childe relationship, but I maintained some power over him. Really, no matter how well he gained a grasp of the dark magicks, he never was a powerful vampire. I suppose his power-hungry nature made him weak. He and his son disappeared for several years after the coup. Darla was angry, and at the time, I was furious that my childe would do something like to the Master. Out of the blue, Garrek approached Darla and I after I'd sired Drusilla and Dru had sired Spike. It was before the Boxer Rebellion...before I was cursed with a soul."  
  
"So, that's what Spike meant when he said he had some theories about what's going on," I said in an effort to make sense of my short conversation with Spike. "He must have met Garrek before."  
  
"That's probably what he meant." Angel continued, "He came to us quite unexpectedly, asking questions about the Master and such. He said he wanted back in the Master's good graces. Darla strung him to the wall and spent several hours with Dru, torturing him. After Darla felt he'd endured enough, she let him join us. Spike never trusted him. Dru said it was because he was jealous, but it turned out Spike was right. Garrek was with us for four months before we woke in the middle of the day with the house where we were staying burning to the ground around us. We barely escaped with our lives. Garrek was nowhere to be found. We confirmed through the demon world that he had pumped us for information on the Master because his son was looking for him."  
  
"Did the son ever take a name?" Dawn wondered aloud.  
  
"He's taken many names. He changes it often...for safety's sake."  
  
"*Changes* his name?" Xander pointed out. "A vampire who changes his name. Hmm."  
  
"Actually, he's not a vampire."  
  
"Does that mean this *human* guy is still alive?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But, how? How can he possibly be alive?" Xander was incredulous. So was I.  
  
"Plenty of ways," Anya responded. "It's fairly easy, actually."  
  
Angel confirmed Anya's answer, "The way the son does it is through magicks. In essence, Garrek keeps his son alive. He channels the magicks he gains through various rituals through himself and passes the strength and power onto his son."  
  
"That explains the K-whatever-they're-called demon ritual with the men that Willow, Spike, and I freed," I realized. "And the ritual he was performing on Dawn."  
  
Willow seemed to be concentrating because she had the fingers of one hand to her temple. "So, does that mean his son can do magicks as well?"  
  
"No. Garrek's son is only kept alive and less vulnerable to attack with the magicks. He has no ability to use the magicks to cast spells."  
  
"Why wasn't the son ever turned like Garrek wanted him to be?" I asked.  
  
Angel glanced at me. "Because his son didn't wish to be a vampire."  
  
"Oh." I thought for a moment. "Since Garrek's technically no longer undead but really dead, does that mean that his son is vulnerable?"  
  
Angel was certain. "Yes. Garrek was likely his main and most powerful source."  
  
"Why 'most powerful'?" Xander queried.  
  
"Because of the bond between father and son," Angel said with conviction.  
  
I felt confused. "What evidence do you have that Spike's with Garrek's son in Alaska?"  
  
"Simple. That's where Garrek's son has been."  
  
"What?!" I slid to the edge of my seat, not believing what Angel was saying. "You mean to tell me that he's been somewhere in Alaska all this time and no one ever did anything about it?"  
  
"Yes. In Anchorage, to be exact."  
  
Dawn piped up, "How come you didn't say anything sooner?"  
  
Angel was resigned. "Because I made a deal with Garrek and his son after I gained my soul and moved to the United States. We actually met a few times after I started helping you in Sunnydale, Buffy. I would leave them alone as long as they kept to themselves and didn't make any grandiose plans to conquer the world or do anything else equally venomous. And I wasn't sure at first whether Garrek and his son were involved in this latest vampire scheme."  
  
"How did you figure it out?" I demanded.  
  
"Well, after I spoke with Willow on the phone about what happened with Dawn and Spike..."  
  
I spun to fix a steely glare on Willow. "You called Angel? I thought we agreed it would stay among the Sunnydale gang until we had more information."  
  
Without hesitation, Willow met my gaze head on. "You were so distraught that I didn't figure you were thinking straight. I wanted Angel to maybe investigate the house...to see if there was anything we missed. So, he came to Sunnydale while we went to Louisiana. That's how he knew where to find us in Texas...."  
  
Angel took over, "And I simply walked into the house and knew." He caught my questioning expression. "I smelled Garrek as soon as I walked into the house...and some other unfamiliar humans."  
  
Dawn frowned and then, realized something, "They had other teenagers working for them. I didn't remember before, but it's clearer now. I invited the two guys in from school, and they had Garrek with them, so I technically invited him, too...." She trailed off, turning to me.  
  
"And Daniel," I finished for her.  
  
"I didn't sense magicks," Willow inserted.  
  
Angel nodded again. "You wouldn't. Garrek's an extremely talented and powerful warlock. He can hide his magicks trail easily. But, he can't hide his trace from his sire."  
  
"Okay, I understand about the blood, but how did they get Spike and his car to Oklahoma so fast?" Xander inquired, raising his hand to his lips.  
  
"Well, it wasn't magicks," Willow contemplated. "So, probably, a plane."  
  
"And they went to all that trouble to what? Get Buffy out of Sunnydale?"  
  
"Yep," Dawn upheld, throwing away her empty orange juice cup. "So they could take over Sunnydale. And to get the energy from me for Garrek's son."  
  
"Still doesn't explain the dusted vamps in the mansion," Anya pointed out.  
  
"Or the female vampire who was with Spike and injected him with that needle...except that she's obviously working for the bad guys," I added.  
  
"What's the point of all this? I mean, what's the end result they're looking for?" Dawn crossed her arms.  
  
Anya spoke automatically, "Why money and power, of course!"  
  
Angel's voice was quiet, "That's true of Garrek but not his son."  
  
I narrowed my eyes. "What does his son want?"  
  
"He just enjoys the ride...the outcome of the manipulation. It's what the Master taught him. And, he's probably expecting us."  
  
end chapter seven 


	9. Chapter 8: Riding Out the Chaos

Title: Hurricane, Chapter 8: Riding Out the Chaos Author: Sandy S. E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com Rating: R Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN. Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6 Dedication: For Thia...who is a new and dear friend and whose creativity inspires me! :o) This chapter is also for my friend and sweet neighbor, Sarah, whom I've made a character in most of my stories. In this one, she wanted to be a witch, and she helped me brainstorm how the events were to unfold. So, this is for you, Sarah, dear! Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy's worst nightmare comes true. Spike's POV. What's happening to Spike in Alaska?  
  
  
  
Riding Out the Chaos  
  
"Bring it on/Let the lightning flash, let the thunder roll, let the storm winds blow/Bring it on/Let the trouble come, let the hard rain fall, let it make me strong/Bring it on." -From the song, "Bring It On," by Steven Curtis Chapman  
  
"Good morning, sleepyhead."  
  
My senses were suddenly filled with sharp pain and the sound of skin contacting my own skin, igniting all the nerves in my cheek and jaw. My eyes flew open.  
  
"Callie?"  
  
Her pale face surrounded by a cascade of red curls, Callie smiled down at me. Her grey eyes glittered with malice, and I realized she had her long legs around my waist, pinning me to the platform I laid atop. My hands and feet were bound tightly with heavy chains. I was in a large cavern that had been modernized with dim electric lights. I couldn't see any other furniture in the open space, but heard the faint hum of central heat and the soft clicking of what sounded like electronic equipment...computers, video equipment, or something.  
  
An unfamiliar masculine voice sounded behind me, "Her name's not actually Callie." To no avail, I strained to catch a glimpse of who was speaking. "It's Calypso. She's my pride and joy. I named her after the sea nymph who captured Odysseus in Greek mythology."  
  
"'Concealer,'" I said with irony. My memory for the past few conscious events seeped slowly through my mind.  
  
The deep-throated chuckle was not what I expected. "Ah, a well-read vampire. I am surprised that any vampire that ran in Angel and Darla's circles would be educated. After all, Angelus was a drunken bar brawler, and Darla was a prostitute...no matter what kind of fancy clothes and airs they wore."  
  
I growled under my breath and said, "I should have known that the unbearably annoying Jonah was behind this scheme."  
  
"My name is no longer Jonah. I'm no longer 'the dove.'"  
  
Straining my body against the cold metal, I laced my tone with sarcasm, "So, what name did you choose this time? Hopefully, something that means idiot ponce and psycho rolled into one."  
  
"Walter, I chose Walter," he said proudly.  
  
"'Powerful warrior'? That's a good one." I tried to arch my neck back. "Why don't you come around front, so I can see you? You bloody well have me tied down at the moment, and I like to see the one I'm talking to." I shifted my hips, trying to throw Callie...Calypso to the side. She clung to my body tightly. "And tell your bird to get off of me."  
  
"Calypso, come."  
  
With an eagerness that made me roll my eyes, Calypso sprang from me and hurried toward the person that strode into my field of vision. Grabbing my captor's arm, she snuggled against him and gazed up at him with puppy-dog eyes. I frowned at the sight because my brain was still having trouble contemplating that the Callie from Oklahoma was the Calypso who betrayed me. I followed the line of her body to take in Walter, or whatever his name was now.  
  
I knew Garrek's son had to be around two hundred years old and should be long dead and rotting in the ground, but the man before me appeared to be only around forty. His hair was thick, dark, and greying slightly around the temples. He had a slender frame and wore a pair of casual dark slacks and a dark blue shirt. Unlike Garrek, he was clean shaven, and he wore a pair of thin glasses without frames perched on his nose. I reasoned that Garrek's magicks couldn't give him twenty-twenty vision. He could have been easily mistaken for a young professional in corporate America.  
  
"What're you staring at so hard, my boy. Never seen a vampire and human in love before?" He took a moment to brush his lips across Calypso's hand, which he clasped in his. "Oh, wait, you are in love with a human girl...the *Vampire Slayer*...killer of your kind, no less. Her name's Buffy, right?" He laughed when he witnessed the flinch I tried and failed to hold back. "It's going to be great fun when she and her friends arrive." I was proud that I was able to hold back my reaction at his second provocative statement.  
  
Calypso grinned adoringly at Walter. He stroked her hair in much the same way I used to touch Drusilla...only this time, the female wasn't the insane one. While they were distracted with each other, I tested the chains once again, hoping desperately for a weak point.  
  
Walter clamped an icy hand on my forearm. "Nope, young fellow. You'll be free of your chains soon enough, but not quite yet." He smiled condescendingly when I ceased squirming to glare at him. "Now, tell me, do you have any questions? I'd be happy to answer them at this time. I'm quite delighted with the results of my scenario so far."  
  
"This is just a game to you, isn't it, you sodding bastard?" I blurted, not bothering to hide my disdain.  
  
When his smile widened, I wanted to claw his eyes out like Drusilla used to do with her victims or when she didn't particularly like someone. In a frightening sort of way, he reminded me of myself when Drusilla and I used to cook up schemes to take over different cities. The difference was that now, I had a soul, felt remorse for the past, and was absolutely certain that I had *never* been as twisted as Walter. Dru and I had always limited ourselves to the conquering of the demon world in a particular area...not the human populace.  
  
"Excellent opening question! Why, yes, I only engage in this sort of activity for personal amusement. I mean, my father wanted the money and the power. Me? I just enjoy the manipulation. I like to pick at a person's weak points and watch them crumble before me. I derive great pleasure out of planning each step of the sequence of events so that I may attain maximum pain in another person...human or demon. It's quite fun to see them going about doing things that they think they chose to do but that *I* actually orchestrated myself. The way they react to certain events or to each other...I like knowing that I created that reaction. And I am especially pleased that they know nothing about my part of their predicament."  
  
"Except this time, we have you at a disadvantage because you've revealed yourself."  
  
"This time," he countered, "I wanted my actions to be known and confronted. Let's just say, I'm getting quite a rush out of knowing that you are aware of the situation and yet, are powerless to stop it. For you see, that, too, was part of my plan. Buffy's on her way with all her little friends, and there'll be surprises waiting for her."  
  
As Walter revealed his true nature, Calypso was rubbing herself leisurely against him and pressing small kisses and nips on his neck. I tried to block her out, hardly able to stand looking at her. "So, you planned everything? You set up the situation with Dawn and I to make it look like I hurt Dawn. You set up the card game with Paul and Callie. You purposefully left a trail for us to find Garrek. You had the demon ritual planted, so we could free the humans."  
  
He clapped joyfully. "Yes, my dear boy, yes! Now you're getting it! I planned everything."  
  
"But, why the hell would you lead our group to Garrek...the source of your ability to stay alive? Doesn't seem too smart if you ask me."  
  
"Yes, sadly, my father was killed. But, then again, that was planned, too." Walter leaned in close so that his nose almost touched my own. I slipped instantly into game face and snapped at him. He calmly took a step back. "No. I don't think so. I want to finish telling you my story. Where was I?...Oh, yes. My father. I was ready for him to die. I mean, if you lived under your father's shadow for about two hundred years or so, wouldn't you want him gone from your life? I need to stand on my own feet...so I can truly lay claim to my work."  
  
"Got a little inferiority complex going there, Walt?" I taunted. "Kind of like what you had going with the Master, isn't it?"  
  
He stuck his bottom lip out in a half-pout. "No. I just wanted to get both of those idiots out of my life. I always knew my father and the Master were less than me, but for some reason, I never got full credit."  
  
"How are you surviving? I mean, technically, you should be quite dead without Garrek's magicks sustaining you."  
  
"Funny you should ask. I have others to assist me in the matter of survival but mainly the one you're about to meet." Walter raised his arm, pushing Calypso away and motioning toward the shadows. "Sayre! Come out, my sweet princess. Time to play."  
  
A statuesque, youthful vampiress with clear ivory skin, hazel eyes, and auburn hair pulled up in a chignon with a few stray curls framing her face glided noiselessly across the floor to Walter's side. She was cloaked in a long flowing indigo blue dress that floated about her like a stream of water. In her arms, she carried a long-haired, orangish-red cat who lazily stared with wide golden eyes at his surroundings as if he was a miniature lion surveying his territory.  
  
Her voice was like a thousand silvery bells that confused my thoughts, "Yes?"  
  
Walter kissed her cheek. "Sayre, meet Spike. He's the one I told you that you were going to be allowed to play with."  
  
At his words, Sayre turned to me, hungrily raking her sparkling eyes over my body. "Really?" Her tone was not childish or overly eager, just contemplative, like she was examining a piece of meat for purchase.  
  
"Yes, my sweet. He's all yours."  
  
"Good." She swayed hypnotically toward me.  
  
Walter motioned to Calypso, who regained her hold on him. He turned and as he was walking away, he said saucily, "I'm going now, my dear boy. Don't kill him, Sayre. We need him alive. I'll be watching you both."  
  
* * *  
  
With Walter gone, Sayre approached me with feline grace and set her cat down at my feet. "Occam, little puss, time to help your mommy."  
  
Occam meowed at his mistress and began padding his way silently up my body until he reached my abdomen and chest. When he arrived at my bare skin, he started kneading his paws and purring in a low tone. His claws were like needles digging deep into my skin, and I felt blood begin flowing down the sides of my rib cage. As the intensity of his kneading increased, the volume of his purrs amplified. When the cat's sound of contentment reached a maximum, I thought my eardrums might burst.  
  
Without warning, the sound ended, and the warm, solid animal on my stomach suddenly melted into an orange liquid mass that was swallowed into my flesh. My nostrils were filled with the sharp essence of cinnamon that tickled and stung the back of my throat.  
  
Something in my flesh began moving, and I lifted my head to view my bare skin. I stared in shock. Little worms were wiggling and pushing into and out of the tissues covering my skeleton. A horrible smell of rotting skin punctuated the movements, and I had a strong urge to scratch myself and relieve the itching.  
  
I turned my head and tried to ignore the sights, smell, and crawling feeling that permeated my senses. Rebelling against my efforts, my stomach knotted and turned, and before I knew what was happening, bile rose up the back of my throat. Although I fought valiantly, I was unable to prevent the bile from exploding out of my mouth and nose. I heaved until my body could heave no more. Then, I sank back covered in sweat, feeling drained of energy. My wrists ached and bled from the pressure against the chains.  
  
Several minutes passed.  
  
Gradually, my senses returned to normal, and I discovered that I still had a voice, albeit a hoarse one, "You think that's enough to break me, witch?"  
  
Sayre appeared quietly at my side. "Ahhh, no, I was just testing you out...to see what you can take."  
  
Waving her hand over my face, she chanted a barely audible incantation. My mouth was instantly refreshed and tasted like peppermints. Sayre bent over me, filling my mind with pictures of sunshine and wildflowers. Her mouth was soft as her lips pressed over mine, and she tasted of cherries and wine. I refused to kiss her back and concentrated on my memories of Buffy...the last time I had seen her...fighting...worried...beautiful. Sayre flicked her tongue over my teeth and then, moved away.  
  
"I just needed a tiny taste to get things just right for you," she murmured gently. The shadows swallowed her....  
  
* * *  
  
At that moment, I found myself free of the chains and in a squatting position in the middle of a huge field covered in short stones that stuck up from the grass...a cemetery. I felt and smelled the presence of five other vampires behind me. Leaping lightly to my feet, I turned to face my adversaries in an attack position.  
  
"Spike! What are you doing?" one of the vampires hissed.  
  
"What's it sodding look like I'm doing, mate? I'm fighting you!" I swung my leg up and kicked the vampire in the stomach. He fell to the dirt with a satisfyingly loud groan. Scooping up a sturdy branch nearby, I jammed the wood into my adversary's heart, causing him to explode into a cloud of dust.  
  
The four other vampires seemed briefly stunned. At once, they ran toward me, throwing punches and kicks and dodging my blows. They were poor fighters. I overcame them within seconds. About to stalk away and find my way out of wherever I was, I whirled and was pinned down by a large hulking bearded figure.  
  
"Garrek! I thought you were dead."  
  
Garrek chuckled, pulling me to my feet. "Not in this lifetime, boy!"  
  
"What's with the 'boy' comments?" Walter and now Garrek kept calling me "boy," which was grating my nerves.  
  
A sharp crack resounded as Garrek slapped me to the ground. He was a rather large vampire and possessed more strength than I remembered. "I don't take insolence from *any* of my minions, and certainly not from you!" He dragged me up by the nape of my neck. "And what the hell did you do to your superiors?" He gestured at the four vampires who were slowly regaining consciousness.  
  
"Superiors? That bunch? They couldn't hurt a fruit fly!" I stood, rubbing my jaw.  
  
Garrek flicked his wrist at me, and I was suspended in the air. "I will not tolerate your behavior." He glanced at my attackers and grunted, "Take him home and do something with him while I hunt!"  
  
The other vampires, whose appearance remained shrouded in shadows despite my vampire visual acuity, forced me to a mausoleum with multiple rooms on the north end of the cemetery. The vampires chained me to the top of a tomb and proceeded to inflict various forms of torture on me. They stripped me naked. One vampire began pouring holy water down my chest, abdomen, thighs, and shins. The hiss of burned skin filled the air, and I focused on the noise and bit my lip hard to prevent crying out in pain. Another vampire took a knife and carved elaborate cross designs on my arms. Once the cross was complete, the pattern itself began to burn, drawing blood and singeing my flesh at the same time. I heard and smelled my blood dripping onto the tile below.  
  
The third vampire, a female, started with my toes and broke each one individually, laughing at each crunching sound emitted by the ripping of my tendons and muscles and the breaking of my bones. When she finished my toes, she moved to my fingers. Then, I did scream with each one she broke, and the darkness threatened to overcome me. The fourth vampire was working around my head. I couldn't see him, but I caught a glimpse of fire light in my peripheral vision. I smelled smoke and burning hair. The bloody ponce set my hair on fire!  
  
At first, I struggled but found myself utterly immobilized. Through the ocean of agony, I finally squeezed my eyes closed and forced my thoughts elsewhere. I thought of Buffy and Dawn, my angels, reminding myself of all I had to live for and that Buffy was walking into a trap. Loving them was a big part of what made me who I was. I had to make myself get through this in order to warn them...to keep them safe. Under no circumstances could I afford to lose consciousness.  
  
Abruptly, three of the vampire presences around me dissipated. I opened my eyes and recognized the hazel eyes hovering above my blue ones. The female vampire who had broken my bones transformed into the lithe form of Sayre.  
  
My voice was soft but clear as I spat through the throbbing ache that pulsed through my every fiber, "So, witch, that didn't work either. Give up, yet?"  
  
She smiled down at me. Although her lips didn't move, her voice echoed in my mind, "You're strong....that makes it fun."  
  
"Not convincing enough. That last little scenario worked less than the worms...." My voice dwindled, and I paused to cough harshly. "Gotta remember, I know how this mojo stuff works. Dru used it for over a century when I was with her. Learned a few things."  
  
"We'll see." Her fingers flickered over my face, and tiny sparks drifted into my eyes....  
  
* * *  
  
Feeling something warm pressed up against me, I opened my eyes slowly, realizing that nothing in my body hurt. I wiggled my toes and fingers. Nope, not broken. My fingertips swept over the skin on my arms and bare chest. No burns or scrapes.  
  
A quiet moan met my ears. I smiled.  
  
I dreamed the entire thing...all the nightmare of Oklahoma, Callie, the demons, Dawn. Buffy was fast asleep beside me in our bed. Pulling her close to spoon her next to me, I nuzzled her silky hair and searched for her hand to hold. Even in her sleep, she sighed happily and clasped my hand in hers. Wanting another dream to replace the horrible one I just had, I let my thoughts drift into the darkness.  
  
On the edge of dreams, I was startled by the telephone ringing. Buffy jerked in my embrace and frantically searched for the cordless phone she kept on the night stand.  
  
"H-hello?" Buffy spoke hoarsely.  
  
I heard a distinct male voice on the line but couldn't quite make out what he was saying.  
  
"Yea, okay. I'll be there. Bye." She hung up the phone with a click and untangled herself from my arms as she stood. The spot where she had been radiated her forsaken body heat.  
  
"Love, what are you doing?" I watched as she dressed in black leather pants and a light-colored blouse. She twirled her long hair into a ponytail that swung lightly when she released the hair band.  
  
"To the dance studio. Carver is fixing the hardwood floor boards in the corner of the room, and he misplaced his key. He didn't want to bother the boss, so he called me." I noticed she didn't look me in the eye.  
  
"Why now? It's..." I rose up to balance on my elbow and glanced at the alarm clock, "five-thirty in the bloody morning. Aren't most humans asleep about now?"  
  
She bent to kiss my forehead gently. "Yeah, well, he was supposed to have this done yesterday. I'm just helping him stay out of trouble. I might or might not be back later."  
  
"Okay," I muttered in disappointment as she hurried out of the room.  
  
Falling back against the pillows after the door shut downstairs, a sudden thought struck me. Completely shifting directions, I leapt out from under the blankets, mimicking Buffy's earlier harried movements to dress. Fairly flying down the stairs, I grabbed my duster and the keys to my DeSota. I noted that I couldn't hear Dawn's even breathing, so I assumed she was at a friend's house. Even before the garage door was completely open, I was backing onto the driveway. Not paying attention, I shattered the side mirror of my car on the edge of the garage. I ignored the mess and drove into the street and toward the dance studio a few blocks over.  
  
Quivering in anticipation and fear, I parked my vehicle next to Carver's truck and Buffy's car. Rushing through the front office of the tiny dance studio, I found myself staring at a scene I wished had never seen. My dear Buffy was in the arms of the stupid, bloody carpenter, kissing him passionately. Willing myself not to sink to the ground in grief, I turned away with my back rigid and cleared my throat.  
  
Her tone was hard, "Spike."  
  
I didn't say anything back because I was afraid of what would come out of my mouth. Listening to her footsteps approaching me, I bowed my head. Thankfully, she couldn't see the tears rolling down my face.  
  
"Do you want to know why I did this?" She was near me now.  
  
"No." My voice cracked, betraying my sorrow.  
  
"Because, how could I possibly be with the man...vampire...creature who couldn't even protect my sister?"  
  
"W-what? What happened to Dawn?"  
  
Her emerald eyes were full of a hate that she had not borne for me in three years. "You damned well know that she's dead. And it's all your fault. You didn't protect her when I asked you to. My god, Spike, where is your brain? How could you forget that the vampires got Dawn and that you let them?"  
  
"B-but, I don't remember." I was desperate to understand. Dawn was dead? I couldn't even begin to fathom her death.  
  
"How convenient....you lost your memory. Well, I don't buy it. I haven't trusted you since Dawn died, and I'm kind of glad you found Carver and I together. Maybe now you'll finally understand that we're really through this time."  
  
Then, I melted to the floor with the certain feeling that this wasn't real. Burying my head in my hands and pretending to sob, I hardly heard Buffy and Carver leave the dance studio.  
  
When I was certain they were gone several minutes later, I was on my feet. "Okay, Sayre, I got the drill down now. That one almost got to me. You're getting a little better at this. So, come on out and bring me the next wave of mind games."  
  
Sayre's words sang only in my head. "Oh, no, we're done with these games. I didn't expect or want you to believe that this was real. It still affected you and that's what counts. Now, we await round two."  
  
Round two? That sounded depressingly familiar.  
  
the end of chapter 8  
  
**Note: Sayre means "princess." Carver means "woodcarver."** 


	10. Chapter 9: Blizzard

Title: Hurricane, Chapter 9: Blizzard Author: Sandy S. E-mail: ssoennin@juno.com Rating: R Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN. Spoilers: Set a few years after season 6 Dedication: For Thia...who is a new and dear friend and whose creativity inspires me! :o) Summary: Dawn, a lot of blood, a disappearance, a search. Buffy's worst nightmare comes true. Dawn's POV. The gang finally reaches Walter's lair in the caves of Alaska!  
  
  
  
Blizzard  
  
"Faithful friends! It lies I know/Pale and white and cold as snow;/And ye say, 'Abdallah's dead!'/Weeping at the feet and head./I can see your falling tears,/I can hear your sighs and prayers;/Yet I smile and whisper this:/I am not the thing you kiss./Cease your tears and let it lie;/It was mine-it is not I." -Sir Edwin Arnold  
  
"Hey, could somebody help me with this pack?" I called out to the others in front of me, shifting the heavy hiking bag awkwardly on my shoulders with my thickly gloved hands. My legs ached from climbing and were numb from the cold that infiltrated the layers I was wearing. My voice was muffled by the stupid scarf that was wrapped like a blanket around the lower half of my face. No one heard me as a result.  
  
Luckily, the evening was clear; no harsh winds or snow swept through the chilly air that stung my bare cheeks as we hiked toward the mountains. Buffy, Angel, and Willow were trudged ahead of me, three heavily bundled forms, and Xander and Anya brought up the rear.  
  
Our little group had landed in Anchorage in the afternoon. We had hung around the city's international airport until dusk, making preparations. Buffy was right about the pilot being in charge of leading us to Spike's captors. After we landed, he had silently handed Buffy a map to the correct location. Another anonymous human driver had awaited us outside the airport, driving us in a large sports utility vehicle towards an area of the nearby mountains that was well-hidden from the small bustling city. We were now on a narrow, steep path that led to our destination and that had been cleared of snow.  
  
My still slightly tender foot suddenly slipped on a patch of ice that had formed on the ground, and I stumbled back, my eyes widening and my body tensing in preparation for the shock of hitting the hard earth. I forgot to shriek; I guess I realized that my voice wouldn't be heard.  
  
Arms made strong through construction work caught me before I hit the dirt, and I heard Xander's dampened voice in my ear, "It's okay, Dawnster; I got you."  
  
Relief washed over me. I thought Xander and Anya had been further behind me. "Thanks."  
  
"Any time."  
  
I heard Anya singing behind Xander, her voice rising thinly over the still night atmosphere, "It's a trap; we're walking into a trap; it's a trap; we're walking into a trap." She almost sounded as panicked as the time the entire gang had gotten trapped in the house on Buffy's birthday a little over three years ago.  
  
With his arm still around my waist, holding me as I regained my footing, Xander pulled Anya close, whispering that everything would be okay. I really wanted to believe him, but my thoughts were preoccupied with concern for Spike.  
  
As if reading my mind, Buffy appeared before me, her small frame engulfed by her thick clothing and her form swathed in the glow of the flashlight she carried. "Guys, we're almost there. Is everyone okay?" She bent over, scooping up my flashlight from where it had fallen when I dropped it. "Dawn...are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah...just almost fell." My gloved fingers fumbled clumsily to grasp the flashlight that she handed me. "I'm okay."  
  
Buffy nodded tersely at me, her tension evident even through the darkness. "Angel's found the entrance to the cave where we think Spike is. Willow's up there with him now, checking it out."  
  
Anya clutched Xander's arm. "A trap."  
  
"Yeah, I know," Buffy sighed. "And I truly appreciate that you would help me, knowing that. I know your history with Spike probably doesn't make it easy."  
  
Xander sounded sincere, "You would do the same for us, Buff...you *have* done the same for us."  
  
"Yeah," I agreed. My sister was one of the only ever-present people in my life, and I was pleased that she was including me in the mission to save Spike. Maybe she just didn't want to let me out of her sight after what happened only a few days ago.  
  
"Do we have a plan?" Anya questioned, her voice shaking as she shivered in the cold temperature.  
  
"Do we ever have a plan?" Xander joked, trying to encourage Anya.  
  
"Get in, get Spike out," Buffy stated. "Don't get killed in the process."  
  
"Good plan."  
  
Willow appeared behind Buffy. "Angel found a 'quiet' way in. Are you ready?"  
  
Before Buffy could speak, I tried to show confidence in our group. "We're ready."  
  
* * *  
  
After a few minutes of hesitatingly entering the caves, I noted that they were completely remodeled and didn't even look like what I expected. The walls were covered in plaster and stark white, the floor was tiled, and the lights were fluorescent. No creatures or objects of any kind lined the halls. The facility reminded me a little of how Buffy had described the Initiative. The distinct smell of cleaning fluid permeated the air.  
  
"Guess the neatness factor kinda goes with this group," Xander observed to Anya.  
  
Everyone but Buffy stared at him in confusion.  
  
"Huh?" I was genuinely curious.  
  
Xander caught Buffy's glare of annoyance.  
  
"Nothing," he replied to me.  
  
Descending through the underground caves was like walking through a sauna wearing our heavy coats and flannel underwear. After what seemed like hours had passed with no action and a steadily increasing temperature, Buffy decided that we could shed our outerwear. Everyone but Anya, who had gotten rid of her coat much earlier, shed his or her excess clothing and piled it neatly next to one of the walls.  
  
I sighed. My feet were starting to hurt and my body ached from walking so much. When we finally reached a fork in the road, I inwardly groaned. My brain was too fried to think enough to choose a route.  
  
As if she read my mind, Anya intoned beside me, "So, does anyone else feel like we're not getting anywhere? And that we're being watched?"  
  
Xander and I half-raised our hands at the same time. "Me," I agreed, thinking that Anya had hit the nail on the head by defining the strange sensation I had been feeling since we'd entered the facility.  
  
"And me," Xander added.  
  
"We *are* being watched," Buffy confirmed. "Angel can hear the cameras."  
  
"Well, I'm fine," Willow said, wrinkling her brow and quietly trying to support Buffy. She earned a strange look from everyone but Buffy. "I mean, about being here and walking. . . not about being watched."  
  
Buffy appeared exhausted as she placed her hands on her hips. "So, do we go left or right?"  
  
Angel, who had been quiet for most of the journey since telling his story on the plane, calmly suggested, "Let's split up."  
  
Relief washing over her face, Buffy became firm, "Right. Xander, Anya, Willow, you guys go right. Angel, Dawn, and I will take the left. Meet back here in an hour if you don't find anything?"  
  
Xander nodded and headed right with Anya and Willow in tow. Buffy led Angel and I down the empty left hall.  
  
* * *  
  
Angel and Buffy were silent as we traveled down the never-ending corridor. Observing them together slightly ahead of me, I recognized the discomfort that now existed between them. They hadn't spent this much time together for over three years since Spike returned from Africa with a soul. I wondered vaguely if Spike would be jealous that Buffy and Angel were rescuing him together.  
  
I gripped the stake that Buffy had given me earlier today and tried to concentrate on the present situation. Too easily, my mind had fallen to not paying attention to. . .  
  
An icy hand slipped around my mouth, muffling my startled cry. The stake in my hand clattered to the floor.  
  
My eyes wide, I witnessed Angel and Buffy spin around to face my captor. They both dropped into fighting stance. . . the stance of hunters and warriors. Deciding to help them out a little, I bit down hard on the vampire's hand and twisted away at the same moment.  
  
Buffy lunged out in attempt to get me away from the vampire.  
  
However, although he was startled, the vampire clutched at me with his uninjured hand, drawing me instantly close to his musty clothing and making me gag. I guessed not everything was clean in this place.  
  
Something sharp pressed into my neck, and I felt wetness trail down my flesh. Forcing me to move backwards, the vampire jerked me down the hall with Buffy and Angel staying one pace behind. Angel was eyeing the vampire, and Buffy kept her eyes focused on mine, sending me silent reassurances.  
  
We were definitely entering the lion's den.  
  
* * *  
  
The cavern we entered from the hallway was one of the largest I'd ever seen. . . larger than the ones my parents took Buffy and I to see when we were younger. Unlike the rest of the facility, this room was dimly lit, complete with bright circles of light and unexplored shadowy depths. I was afraid here.  
  
I couldn't view much, and I drew no comfort from Buffy's horrified visage. Angel wore his usual unreadable vampire mask.  
  
"So, we're finally all here," an unfamiliar voice echoed in the acoustically unsound cavern.  
  
The vampire holding me captive spun me around to face the source of the speech. My heart dropped to my shoes as I bore witness to what Buffy and Angel saw.  
  
Spike was chained to a concrete slab in the center with spotlights positioned on his unmoving form. Anya, Willow, and Xander were piled in an unceremonious unconscious heap nearby. Fifteen or so vampire minions stood in small clusters in each shadow, wearing black clothing and silver charms that glinted in the minimal light.  
  
The one who had uttered the bold statement appeared to be a middle aged man. However, his true age was not reflected in his looks but in his eyes. . . his were eyes that had seen many decades. Dressed in a dark navy blue, his wardrobe varied slightly from the vampires'. Instantly, I *knew* that he was the man whom Angel was talking about. . . the man with no name but one he created. . . Garrek's son.  
  
"Donald, could you please bring me my specimen?" Garrek's son uttered, motioning at the vampire who had pinned my arm in a painful twist behind my back.  
  
Donald roughly pushed me toward Garrek's son. Resisting as hard as I could, I managed to stall our movement and cause Donald to stumble over my feet, almost falling over in the process.  
  
That was when Spike lifted his head slightly. Through half-slit eyes, he sent me the message to not resist, so I reluctantly relented and allowed myself to practically be shoved into Garrek's son's face. He ran a thick finger over my cheek, and I found myself being grateful that he didn't use his tongue the way his father had.  
  
"So, you do have power within you. I can feel it. Child, why do you not use this power of yours?" His breath is surprisingly sweet. . . like an odd mixture of flowers and cinnamon, and I felt slightly dizzy as a result.  
  
I said nothing but continued to stare defiantly into his eyes the way Buffy and Spike would have.  
  
In an unexpected motion, he covered my face with one hand and slung his arm around my waist with his opposite arm. Again, I changed directions to view Buffy and Angel peering out of the shadows at the others and me. I tried my best to appear calm.  
  
Garrek's son's voice is loud in my left ear, and he sounds like he's accepting an academy award or something, "So, you're probably wondering why you're here. I have to first of all, thank you. If it wasn't for you, Buffy Summers, and you, Angelus, none of this would have been possible."  
  
"What do you want, Jonah?" Angel interrupted with irritation in his tone.  
  
I could almost feel Garrek's son frown. "My name is no longer 'Jonah' but is now Walter. . . , meaning 'powerful warrior.' Appropriate, don't you think, for this time period in our relationship?"  
  
"Answer his question," Buffy commanded, glaring angrily.  
  
"I don't believe you're in any position to be handing out orders, missy." His arm tightened around my hips, and I had to suck in my stomach to breathe.  
  
"What do you mean by 'none of this would have been possible'?" Angel questioned firmly.  
  
"I set you up to fail. Don't you know that about me by now, Angelus?" When he caught Angel's fearful expression, Walter bragged, "I set you up. . . both of you! I had Garrek plant Dawn's blood, Miss Summers, and I laid the trail for those murders you were investigating, Angelus. You merely followed through with my plan."  
  
"And now your plan is to what? Hold us here in this cavern talking to us until you're blue in the face?" Buffy was at her most sarcastic, which was occasionally beneficial in intimidating the usual vampires and minions.  
  
Walter's laugh was loud, bright, and eerily cheerful before he found his vocal cords again, "Oh, that is good. No, I'm not here to talk with you, Miss Summers. You're here to put on a show for me." He gestured widely, pointing at me. "You see, you have a choice in the matter. You can either kill your sister, whom I believe isn't really your sister. She's what? A mystical cluster of energy. . . so powerful that she could keep me alive for one hundred centuries." He nuzzled my neck with his nose, and I shivered at the smell of decay rolling off his flesh; he was definitely vulnerable since Garrek's death.  
  
Buffy took a few threatening steps toward him, and the minions in the shadows seemed to take offense to her actions, so they clustered around her, preventing her from nearing Walter.  
  
Walter rested his head on my shoulder and smiled; I felt his cheeks lift with the corners of his mouth. "Or, you can kill your lover. . . a member of the species you're supposed to kill anyway." He nodded at Spike's prone body.  
  
Buffy's expression flashed back and forth from vulnerability to fear to rage as if she was trying to decide which to feel in the current situation.  
  
She picked rage.  
  
Hurling herself at the closest minion, she dusted him before he knew what hit him. Angel followed Buffy's lead and quickly began fighting the vampires most adjacent to him. Grunts and the sound of flesh meeting flesh bounced through the air of the underground chamber.  
  
I turned my head to glance at Walter, not certain what he would do in response. He was grinning broadly, and his eyes were filled with a hunger that I had never previously seen even in a vampire's eyes. Like a child who cut the tails off cats, he was enjoying viewing his own servants being killed!  
  
When Buffy and Angel were wrestling with and overcoming the last two minions, Walter snapped his fingers sharply. From an unseen entrance behind us, fresh vampires filtered into the room.  
  
As the new minions surrounded Angel and Buffy, Walter boomed, "Now that you're tired, perhaps you'll heed the demands of the task I've laid before you, Miss Summers."  
  
Buffy winced as one of the minions pushed in front of Walter. At Walter's signal, another vampire pressed a sword into Buffy's hand.  
  
Buffy stared in defiance at the manipulator before her. "So, what? Do you honestly believe your plan is going to work, Wally or Wilson or whatever your name is?"  
  
Walter laughed. "Oh, yes! Of course, I do."  
  
"Well, you'd be wrong. You'll be dead before you ever think about leaving this place."  
  
Walter winked at Buffy. "I don't intend to leave my home, so you're right on one count there. So. . . choose, or they both die."  
  
Spike's voice resonated weakly as he spoke for the first time, "Do what he says, love."  
  
Like a little boy who had to use the restroom but refused to tell his mother, Walter was practically dancing in place as he waited for Buffy to respond. "Go on," he urged, "Talk to Spike. Tell him how you feel."  
  
The vampire holding Buffy's arm dragged her up to Spike's side. She placed a bare hand on his chest, and I swore I felt the electricity that danced between them. As she gazed at him and read the message in his eyes, I saw large tears spill over her lids and wash over her cheeks. I realized that she and Spike had made the decision about her next course of action with no words. . . only their shared love.  
  
Then, she spoke the words that she'd so often left unsaid, "I love you, William, with all my heart and soul. You are truly beautiful. . . inside and out. I've never met someone I've felt such deep love for but also such deep anger." She laughed hesitatingly. "I suppose now I look back and can say I've loved you since you came into my life years ago. I would have never thought so then."  
  
Buffy reverently brought the sword up to Spike's neck.  
  
Then, she faltered, leaning against Spike's chest and pressing her face into his throat, "I-I can't."  
  
I barely heard Spike's next words because he murmured them against her hair, "You have to, love. I won't allow Dawn to be harmed again. You both have a shot at surviving if you choose me. Come now, where's my slayer?"  
  
Sounding like a spoiled child, Walter chose that moment to interrupt impatiently, "Okay, okay, him or Dawn. . . do something or they both die."  
  
I closed my eyes.  
  
All I heard was the sound of Buffy's sobs as Spike's form burst into dust.  
  
The end of chapter 9 


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